V is for Vampire
by idreamedofstardust
Summary: So we all know that Jerry had Charley as a neighbor on his right side of the house but what about his left? And so we meet Grace, a woman bent on discovering the mystery that encompasses her neighbor, even when he's constantly watching her...all the time.
1. Chapter 1

**So I went to go see the remake of Fright Night and I enjoyed it very much. The original was definitely the better of the two, but I came to see it for the David Tennant and I left feeling inspired. One thing that I found remarkable about Jerry was that even though I was immensely attracted to him, I could only see his physical appeal. Normally, I fall head over heels with the bad guy in the movies, but Farrell played him so coldly, manipulatively, and darkly that it was quite impossible to not only sympathize with his character, but to find cause for his actions. That was something I never quite experienced before so I felt inspired to write something about him and an OC I've created. Another thing was that I felt no emotional attachment to any of the characters in the movie. When they died or were in danger, I was just kind of 'meh'. Which was kind of unfortunate. But, I did feel bad when Ed died and I think her name was Beth, the go go dancer. They were two characters that strangely enough, I did feel for.**

**There's no guarantee whether I'll have any of the characterizations down in my writing, but I will write the actual characters from the movie as I saw and imagined them. This story doesn't have a long distance plot, but only an idea that formed. And to anyone reading who's currently awaiting the update for In Search Of Something Great and Noble, it'll come sometime this week.**

**Enjoy this chapter that is based on this new version of Fright Night. Anything in italics are thoughts. Also, while Jerry is Charley's neighbor on one side, on the other, my OC is his neighbor.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

Grace lifted an auburn brown lock of hair away from her eyes, sitting down in a chair next to the answering machine. Nervously, she tapped with her fingers against her knee – an anxious habit that had formed over time. However, the act was not able to persuade a stray finger from pressing the repeat message button.

Tucking in her legs suddenly, Grace placed a tired hand underneath her chin and listened for the tenth time that day, to the message.

_Grace, this is your mother. I'm calling to tell you how much we've missed you and that a New York Christmas just isn't the same without you. We have no one to paint murals of Christmas Day anymore or sing holiday tunes for the neighbors. Most importantly, we don't have you. Grace, I want you to know how sorry your father is about yelling at you for leaving with Andrew. It just came so unexpectedly and I don't think that your father was ready to lose his baby girl yet. I'm certainly not. Still, I hope you're enjoying Nevada with Andrew. Your love took you somewhere and I only hope it makes you eternally happy. Oh and dear, happy 20th birthday._

The recording beep had interrupted soon after, slicing away the closest thing Grace had to home.

Thinking back on it, she knew she had made a lot of dumb decisions. Dating Andrew was one of them. She never even did a background check on him or asked around. Grace had naively assumed that he was a caring guy all around.

However, as soon as she ran away with him to Nevada, his dark side had emerged. By dark side, she meant the raging alcoholic who Grace would unfortunately meet each night. The bruises peppered around her jaw and eyes were clear signs of that.

Another stupid decision was running away with Andrew to some town in the middle of a desert. It distanced her from a family that she cared incredibly deep for and isolated her in a relationship she had no control over. The bouts of loneliness only heightened when she realized that there was no one around for her to tell what was happening to her. Instead, they read the story on her face, but declined to comment.

Grace was as alone as ever, seemingly a world apart from home. Life had sure capitalized on her mistakes.

_Hey Grace._

The 20 year old smiled at the second message starting. Sometimes it felt that the only woman she could turn to was Jane Brewster. She herself had been married to a scumbag and instead of staying silent on Grace's battered appearance, Jane opted to comfort her.

_Hopefully Andrew isn't there for me to tell you this. We have a new neighbor. His name is Jerry and I hate to say this Grace, but he's absolutely gorgeous. All tall, dark and handsome, meaning he's your type. Plus, he's single. _

Rolling her eyes, Grace stretched her feet out like a cat, yawning at the sensation until the pain started to kick in. Running a sturdy hand over a bruise on her knee caused by Andrew pushing her into the television which nearly busted her kneecap, Grace only sighed dejectedly. If she didn't still see the same man inside him from which she first met, she would have left Andrew in a heartbeat.

_Anyways, he's got looks and charm. Definitely will be a nice change from Mr. Despondency that lives with you. Come on over tonight, if you can get out of the house. I'll fill in the blanks. Oh, and happy 20th._

A smile returned to Grace's face, although much more worn than one typical for girls her age. It quite literally spelled out a life of tranquility, overwhelmed by one bad decision that had turned her life horribly wrong.

Checking a nearby clock which signaled 5:00 in the afternoon, Grace tied her hair back in a loose ponytail. No matter how badly she wanted to escape her poisoned home, her concern always overtook her at Andrew's condition. Most of the times that he stumbled home from a bar or drove drunk from Las Vegas after a night at a club, let Grace know that he was slowly destroying not only their relationship, but himself.

She may have a deep malice toward him after taking a violent night of beatings, but it couldn't stop her from attempting to help him afterward. Perhaps Grace was still in denial that he had turned so viciously into a different man. Or maybe giving up on someone wasn't like her. Whatever it was, Grace knew that she would love Andrew no matter how many bruises he put upon her.

"Love stinks," Grace muttered into the empty house, cradling herself suddenly as she awaited Andrew's arrival. At least she'd make sure he was okay before heading over to Jane's.

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"Andy, please stop," Grace attempted to firmly say, but regretted as soon as a flower pot headed her way.

Ducking it just barely, Grace backed up suddenly at Andrew's searing anger. It had been a long time since he'd been this angry and this drunk.

"Y-you are slee-eeping around with me, aren't ya slut?" he mumbled incoherently, drunkenly stumbling toward her.

"Of course not!" she nearly yelled back, holding out a cautious hand toward him.

"Don't lie to me!" he screamed at her, throwing his half empty bottle at her.

Grace had had enough. Within seconds of ducking the bottle, she made her hurried escape into a bathroom and quickly locked it with wild fingers.

Her heart had been pounding abnormally as soon as Andrew had gotten home around 6, in a more spiteful mood than usual. It was hard to believe that he was only 23 and had the kind of rage which took years to build up in an alcoholic. Did she really do something to make him that mad?

A sudden boom from the other side of the door made Grace jump up in the air once.

"Let me in Grace!" Andrew ordered, banging harshly on the door.

Grace's heart rate only increased. It was the first time in Andrew's presence that she'd been scared for her life. Sure he'd gotten violent on her, leaving bruises in his anger. But he never pursued her so aggressively or assumed that she was sleeping around with someone. Hell, she never left the house unless it was to go to the grocery store or to Jane's.

"If you don't open this goddamn door, I'm going to kill you," he threatened, slamming what sounded like his head, against the unsturdy wood.

Witnessing the mild crack that appeared from the impact, Grace nervously backed up until she ran into the wall behind her.

_What the hell do I do? Cell phone's in the kitchen. Good lord, he might actually kill me this time. _

Despite his violent behavior, Grace attempted one last time to calm him down.

"Andy, just tell me what's going on. You know I love you. Why would you think that I'd be with any other man but you?"

"Because," he hiccuped, slapping his palm against the door, "you're nothing but a little whore. Running off into another man's arms as soon as I leave. Inviting men over when I'm not here. I smell their damn cologne on the sheets!"

_He's lost his mind._

With that realization, Grace spun around and jumped on top of the toilet. Above it was a small window that she could just barely get herself through if she tried.

Fumbling with the latch, she heard Andrew's fists begin to beat on the door again, the door itself shaking with the constant impact.

"Come on, come on," she prayed to herself, sliding the window up.

"When I get in there-."

Grace never heard the rest of Andrew's threats as she jumped up, grabbed onto the window sill and pulled herself out. Using her arms to crawl, she fell headfirst on top of the garbage cans.

"Of for the sake of all things Christmas," Grace groaned to herself, feeling her dormant bruises spring to life with raw renewal.

Strangely enough, Andrew's beatings on the door had suddenly stopped.

_Perhaps he passed out._

Wearily picking herself up, Grace brushed off last night's salad off her peach tank top and silently listened for any movements inside her house. Night had rapidly descended upon her town and nearby, she could hear cats wrestling with each other for a nightly treat. Even farther away, the sound of children's laughter greeted her ears.

Grace found herself smiling at their innocence. She remembered a time like that, before having fallen in love. Where nothing mattered except hanging out with friends or catching the latest movie. Knowing that she was utterly safe within the confines of adolescence.

"Grace! Come back here you bitch!"

In seconds flat, she heard the sound of the front door being swung open and Andrew's heavy footsteps pounding on the pavement.

"Oh Christ," she mumbled to herself, quickly scanning the scenery around her in the dim light.

Ahead of her was a fence separating her from her neighbor. To the right of her was her back yard, but it was barren and held no legitimate place for her to hide. If she were to head left, she'd run straight into Andrew.

Hearing the approaching steps nearing, Grace made a final decision.

Sprinting as fast as she could, Grace ran at the fence ahead of her. Luckily for her, she was a successful cross country and gymnastics protege. Definitely not the best, but talented enough to run and jump with speed and trajectory.

Jumping as if she was going to grasp on to one of the uneven bars at her gym, Grace ignored the pain suddenly erupting in her kneecap and grabbed on to the top of the fence for all it was worth. Through deep breaths, she managed to pull herself over and land onto her neighbor's grass with a soft oof.

"Grace!"

Andrew's voice came from right on the other side of the fence as Grace attempted to steady herself once more. This time, the pain in her knee was excruciating. Still, she managed to hobble across the yard and catch Jane's house come into view.

Stumbling, she held onto her knee with one hand and kept swinging her other, forcing herself into a half walk-half run.

When Andrew's yells still vibrated from her yard, Grace broke out into a full run. Ragged breaths fell through her teeth as Jane's house continued to become closer and closer.

_Just a few more yards, c'mon!_

So focused on running from Andrew and not paying attention to her surroundings, Grace nearly had a heart attack when she slammed into a solid, male form. Nearly bouncing off and hitting the ground again, the arms firmly caught her as Grace felt a shiver run through her. They were uncommonly cold for such a humid place.

Slowing her breaths as the figure pulled her to a standing position, Grace studied the man in front of her. He was a good few inches taller than her, deep raven black hair, exotic brown eyes, perfectly thick eyebrows and pale skin that nearly glowed in the dark. Definitely fit with a white wife beater wrapped over his muscles, the man screamed sex appeal.

_Wowza. This must be Jerry._

Her observation was cut short as another angry yell came from her yard. Still feeling the man's arms on her, Grace gave him an apologetic smile before pushing him with all her might. He was caught off guard, but allowed her to push him until they were on the other side of the house, away from Andrew's eyes, were he to jump the fence. Which in Grace's mind, she believed he would.

Ahead of her, her neighbor merely smirked in curiosity at her, still keeping his arms wrapped around hers.

He was just about to open his mouth when Andrew's scratching on the fence distracted the nervous girl.

Pushing the man so that he was between the house and her, Grace calmly placed her hand over his mouth and with her other finger, signaled for his silence.

"I'm going to put a permanent scar across your face, you stupid slut, once I get a hold of you."

Despite the ferocious comment, Grace detected a slight tiredness in his threat. The alcohol would soon be wearing off and he'd probably pass out in their yard.

Her affirmations were soon proven true as Andrew's clawing at the fence ceased and a final groan entered the atmosphere before she heard a falling bang.

_Oh what a relief._

Sighing into the night air, Grace closed her eyes in gratitude.

However, she retracted her hand shortly after as she felt a warm tongue lick across the inside of her palm.

"Hells bells Jerry, did you just lick me?" Grace cried, distancing herself.

"You know my name. How unfortunate it is that I don't know yours," he replied, taking a step toward her.

There was something about his steps that made her feel uneasy. A sort of predator-prey complex she felt. Where it was obvious that he was the predator and she was the prey.

"Yeah, well it's going to stay that way if you try to lick me again," she guaranteed.

"I promise not to lick you then," he charmingly assured, holding out his hand.

Grace stared at it with an eyebrow raised. Then, she glanced at the man across from her. There was something almost cynical in his gesture, although she could tell that it wasn't his intention to show that.

"I'm Grace," she finally said, shaking his hand and feeling another bout of cold hit her.

"I've never met a Grace before," he announced, holding her hand for just a second longer than she was normally comfortable with.

"I've never met a Jerry," Grace admitted, running a hand through her messy hair.

She held her breath as Jerry planted himself in front of her. A slight aftershave invaded her nostrils as she felt his fingers comb something out of her hair.

Taking in the branch, Jerry chuckled before throwing it behind him. The branch landed in a trash can ten feet away.

"Wow, impressive," Grace acknowledged.

"Really? I wasn't looking."

Snorting, Grace rolled her eyes.

"Nice meeting you Jerry."

With that, she began her way out toward the road.

Feeling his presence behind her immediately, Grace struggled to keep her heartbeat calm. Instead, she focused on the periodic stings of long forgotten bruises that suddenly decided to make their feelings known. Her walk eventually reduced to a slight limp.

"Do you need any help?" he asked, his breath blowing the brown wisps of hair on the back of her neck.

"No thank you," she relayed, frustrated at the slight whimper that made it's way into her answer.

"Now what kind of neighbor would I be if I just let you walk back to a man who gave you that limp?"

"A smart one," she replied, turning on the sidewalk.

She didn't know how, but suddenly Jerry appeared in front of her. Maybe she'd been focusing on the ground too much or perhaps not enough on her neighbor, but his presence in front of her had her pause in her footsteps.

"Yes?" she asked in slight frustration.

"Grace, I'm here at your disposal."

"Is that supposed to sound reassuring?"

"Well, yes," he laughed as if it was painfully clear.

Blowing a strand of hair from her face, Grace met Jerry's eyes with hesitance this time. Although Jane had mentioned nothing hostile about their neighbor on the answering machine, Grace had met enough creeps in her life to know that there was something distinctly off about Jerry. It was buried within him, not often seen. But for some reason, to Grace's eyes, it was obvious.

"Alright, have it your way," Grace commented, throwing an arm around his shoulders.

Immediately, Jerry wrapped a strong arm around her and helped her walk the remainder of the way home.

"One more thing?" Grace found herself asking as she ventured a look toward her half of the fence.

"Lift the drunk?"

The way he said it, made him sound like he was so sure of what was going on. In fact, Grace found herself put off at his comment. She didn't know why when she had allowed Jane to call Andrew the same thing, countless of times.

"He's got a name," Grace mumbled, throwing her green eyes harshly at Jerry's brown ones.

He met hers with amusement, plainly allowing her to know how ridiculous it was that she was trying to find cause for Andrew's actions.

"Of course," Jerry said, sliding his arm painfully slow, off her back.

Shivering at the action, Grace watched Jerry retreat into the darkness.

_What is it about him that unnerves me? He's so...odd? Enigmatic? _

Seconds later, Jerry came back with Andrew's form slumped over his shoulder.

"This way," Grace offered, refusing to meet his eyes as she made her way toward her home.

Throwing open the door, Grace walked inside, expecting Jerry to follow her. However, he stopped just short of the doorway.

Spinning around, Grace took in his patient form outside of her door in confusion.

"Well?" she asked.

"You don't seem like the type of woman to let men in without an invitation," he remarked.

"What happened to being good neighbors?" Grace amusedly asked.

"Is that an invitation?"

Sighing, Grace tapped her fingers on her knee a few times.

"I've got it from here," she finally answered, walking up to him and tugging at Andrew's limp form.

"Are you sure?" Jerry softly asked, allowing Andrew's form down into her arms.

"Yep. Thanks Jerry, but if my boyfriend finds out I let in my new mysterious male neighbor into our house...well let's just say that you'll never be at my disposal ever again," Grace announced.

Smiling sullenly at his slightly puzzled experssion, Grace shut the door and locked it.

Andrew stirred slightly at the action, blowing out rancid whiskey through his teeth.

"What am I going to do with you?" she mumbled to herself, dragging him toward their bedroom.

_I'll talk to Jane tomorrow._

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><p><strong>Just an fyi, Grace will not be some Mary Sue. Review if you're interested.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm very overwhelmed with the amount of people who've reviewed and story alerted this. It's the fastest I've had any of my stories come to popularity. But this also means that I actually have to write decent from now on...great. **

**BUT, I do love writing for an audience and you lot seem lively and open minded so onwards we go! Actually, I watched Fright Night for a second time this evening in theaters since how I wanted to write Jerry's character was disappearing from my mind. Better than the first time, that's for sure. I've got different ideas and actual thoughts about the future of this story. However, I feel like Professor Umbridge needs to give me one of her special quills so I can write 'I must not write fanfiction, I must not write fanfiction' over and over again. I'm not even done with one of my stories that I promised to have finished and now I'm starting another one. It's pure chaos and it's for this reason that I can't alway guarantee an update. Anywho, enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

"So...I heard you met our new neighbor," Jane pointedly noted, sipping her coffee.

Grace suspiciously glanced at her, but couldn't hide the smile from claiming her lips.

"He's definitely...something," Grace finally commented, staring at her empty cup.

It was early in the morning that Grace had decided to stop by and see Jane, intent on telling her the latest conflict between herself and Andrew. As usual, Charley had given her a hasty goodbye before heading out for school. The Brewster duo was both like a second family to her and Grace couldn't have been anymore grateful to them. Charley kept her young and spirited with his youthful humor while Jane listened and gave advice like an adult. Together, the two were possibly the only friends she had in the whole town.

Upon her arrival, Jane had hugged her meaningfully, whispering soothing things into her ear. Apparently the whole block had heard Andrew's violent exchange last night, more curious about the outcome rather than whether Grace herself was alright. The police weren't notified anymore since Grace denied anything happened anyway. No point in sending Andrew to prison when she was supposed to be helping him.

Still, it was nice to have known that Jane cared.

After sitting down and taking in some coffee, Grace opened up about the incident and surprisingly relayed her near death experience with little fear.

"Grace, you've been trying for a year to get him straightened out. There's a time that comes when enough is enough," Jane had explained.

Of course it wasn't quite that easy.

"But Jane, sometimes I feel like I'm so close. That I'm just on the verge of finding that hidden man that keeps on fleeing. He treated me and loved me for three years and for him to just suddenly turn into this drunkard is still difficult for me to believe."

Even to her own ears, it had sounded weak. A part of Grace knew that she was making excuses up for Andrew's alcoholism. But another part of her just couldn't help it. She was a believer in love and grasping on to the fact that it could disappear so abruptly, wasn't something she was willing to face.

Eventually the conversation steered toward their current topic of their neighbor.

"Do you like him?" Jane quipped.

"I don't know," Grace found herself admitting.

"Well...Charley likes him."

"Really?"

"Yes. They met two days ago and they got along just fine."

"And everyone that Charley likes must be good."

"Hasn't let me down yet," Jane laughed.

"He's a good kid."

"Don't change the subject on me! What's got you shaken up about Jerry?"

Grace's fingers twitched at the mention of his name, suddenly remembering how cold his body had been when in comparison to the balmy air. He'd been like an icebox at the center of a sun.

"He called Andrew a drunk."

Smiling, Jane was about to reply when Grace cut her off.

"Yes, yes, I know I let you call him that too. But just the way he said it, almost like he was so self assured about the fact. And what was he doing, standing in the middle of his yard in the dark? If I was still in New York, I would have pepper sprayed him until his eyes bled."

"But we're not in New York, we're in Nevada. And Grace, honey, I really hate to say this but it's been a year and Andrew has made little to no progress. He doesn't love you the way you should be loved. Isn't it time that you looked for somebody who's going to respect you for who you are?"

Sighing, Grace nodded her head in reluctant understanding.

Taking in her friend, Jane stood up and took Grace's cup.

"Alright, I'm not saying you should marry the guy. I just think," Jane attempted to relay, "that you might be getting the creeps from him because of how Andrew treats you. He's making you not trust men. Any men."

"That's ridiculous," Grace stated.

"Is it? When's the last time you looked at a man other than to make conversation with him?"

Grace attempted to answer, but her mind frustratingly came up blank.

"And, when was the last time that Andrew called you beautiful? Or said he loved you?"

Again, Grace searched for an answer, but it was lost behind a thick fog of painful memories.

"Exactly. You need a change. You need a man, not a boy. And guess what? You've got Jerry completely at your disposal."

Despite Jane's need to have made that a reassuring comment, it only further set Grace on edge.

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The morning ash clouds above her rolled in as soon as Grace had left the Brewster household. They rumbled threateningly, but the sound only comforted the New York native. It reminded her of watching storms over the Atlantic Ocean as a child with her parents. Taking pictures of waterspouts or lightning storms flying over a treacherous, eternal ocean. Ultimately, the sound brought back a familiar creeping of nostalgia.

When a clap of thunder erupted to the left of her, Grace spun her head in surprise toward the sound and instead was greeted with Jerry Dandridge's looming house. With the rapidly darkening clouds and sudden shift in temperature, Jerry's house appeared much more eerie than it actually was.

Shifting on her feet, Grace felt the sudden urge to run home as fast as she could. It was completely unsound and came out of nowhere, but nevertheless, a feeling of great unease had hit her. Whether she was one to follow her feelings, was a different matter altogether.

_That's strange. The black shading out his windows...I suppose a lot of people have that here. What was it that Jane said he did? Construction on the strip?_

Studying his windows, Grace ignored the prickling that had ignited on her forearms. Almost as if each stab of Goosebumps were warning her of this private invasion she was currently indulging in. It was silly of course, to feel like she was intruding just by scouting out his house. Still, the feeling was very much present, pushing her to leave immediately.

"Can I help you with something, Grace?" a voice questioned.

Grace couldn't fight her skin from curling up at Jerry's sudden appearance behind her.

Steadying her breaths and placing a shaky hand on her chest, Grace smiled politely as Jerry stepped up right next to her.

"You scared the pancakes out of me," Grace answered, taking in Jerry's brown eyes that stayed glued to her emerald ones.

A deep grin enveloped his lips as he tilted his head slightly.

"Your expressions and phrases are quite amusing."

"Sorry," Grace began.

"Not a problem. I welcome them rather than just some dumb teenagers dropping the f bomb every three minutes."

"Ah. Well, I guess it's a New York thing. I kind of grew up in a family that was very expressive. They're just little ways that I can change boring words."

"They work," he remarked, his eyes venturing down the length of her body once before meeting her eyes again with a smile.

If it was possible, the prickling had now evolved into miniscule stab wounds.

_To hell with Jane telling me I need a man. If Jerry gives me the creeps, I'm not going to stick around to find out why._

But a stubborn part of her, the same part that was fueling her excuses for Andrew's behavior, forced her to stand rooted to the sidewalk. It told her that by running away, gave Jerry a certain power over her. A completely irrational notion, but Grace sometimes was an irrational girl, as greatly elaborated in the fact that she ran away with a man she had really known so little about.

"So what are you doing up this early?" Grace asked, ignoring the large inhalation of breath he suddenly took with closed eyes.

Opening them, Jerry simply answered, "Just some things I had to take care of regarding moving in."

"And how do you like this neighborhood so far?"

"Very tranquil. My kind of town."

"That's good," she acknowledged.

More thunder rumbled cautiously in the distance, bringing with it the promise of rain.

"I should probably get going," Grace finally announced, glancing at Jerry's still form.

"Did you want something since you were standing outside my house?"

"Oh, no. I just wanted to thank you again for carrying Andrew to my house. It would have probably taken me an hour."

"Not a problem."

"Right, well I'll catch you around," Grace offered, walking backward on the pavement.

She wasn't quite ready to turn her back on him yet.

"I can guarantee it," Jerry promised, keeping his dark brown eyes steadied on her.

"Are you sure about that?"

Inwardly, Grace groaned. She was trying to get away from this man, not flirt like some schoolgirl.

The rakish grin that covered his face however, assumed that she was doing the latter. His eyes flickered briefly behind her before settling on her with a brown entirely too dark for that early in the morning.

"I'm so sorry Jerry. I have no idea why they came out. I'm not trying to flirt with you, I swear."

"Not a problem. I don't think you're that kind of girl."

Before she could stop herself, Grace blurted, "What kind of girl do you think I am?"

Immediately, she flung her hands over her mouth as her green eyes opened wide.

Shaking her head, Grace laughed.

"I really need to shut up."

"Why?" Jerry questioned, taking two steps forward.

They may have been small in comparison, but Grace felt a gigantic shift in power leaving her and entering him.

"Because I'm an idiot."

Jerry laughed sardonically, running a finger down his dark blue shirt.

"Perhaps you are."

A stab of anger coursed its way through her as Grace flung her hands down in surprise, taking two powerful steps forward.

"In what way?"

She kept her voice free of anger, a genuine surprise masking it.

_He's not the one that's supposed to judge me! I'm the one that's supposed to judge him!_

He simply lifted his eyes behind her again, before settling them on her.

Grace turned around and followed his eyes to her house. To be more specific, a window in her house in which she saw Andrew standing in, watching them.

From the distance, Grace couldn't make out what the emotion on his face was. However, panic soon overran her anger.

"I've got to go," she muttered, moving suddenly toward her house.

Before she could take any more steps however, she felt a gentle yank on her arm as Jerry pulled her back to him. The effect nearly made her dizzy with euphoria, a sudden scent of aftershave and wood filling her mind. Her eyes met his with determined confusion, tugging half heartedly at his grip.

"Let go," Grace firmly ordered.

"Back to a man who puts those bruises on you?" Jerry questioned, lifting his hand near her face.

He didn't do anything for a second, merely observing her cautious form. Then with gentle precision, Jerry located a receding pinkish bruise under her cheekbone and brushed his thumb delicately across it.

This made Grace breathe in harshly.

_This should not be happening. I've only known this guy one day._

But her eyes closed in silent relief at his ministration, reveling in the feeling of such sensual contact. Maybe Jane was right. Grace had been used to Andrew's rash touches and fists. The feeling of someone touching her without anger, without threat, made her body sing with pleasure. That is, until she remembered herself.

"I don't have a choice," Grace whispered back, nearly whimpering at the loss of contact.

"There's always a choice," Jerry noted, releasing her arm.

"Then I choose Andrew. I will always choose Andrew."

"Maybe you're not as smart as I thought you were."

Grace laughed, taking a few steps back.

"And the same could be said for you," she observed, glancing at him one last time before making her way home.

The whole way, even without turning around, Grace could feel the undeniable weight of Jerry's eyes on her. For some reason, she felt like things had just reached a whole new level of complicated between him and her.

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"Just this weird neighbor that moved in," Grace commented off hand, brushing an invisible dustbunny off her shirt.

Andrew studied her, and then breathed out as he set his cap on his head.

"He looked like he was getting pretty cozy with you."

Finding Andrew's hand, Grace interlocked her fingers within his.

"All I could think of was you," she announced, kissing his thumb.

Meeting her green eyes with his blue ones, Andrew pulled Grace to him, settling his arm tightly around her.

"You don't sleep around with men, I know that. I'm really, really sorry Grace, about last night. You're the most faithful girl I've ever known."

"I know you don't mean it," Grace said, running the nails of her fingers over his forearm.

"Forgive me?"

Hearing the truthful sorrow in his voice, Grace wrapped her hand around his neck and brought his lips to hers.

"Always," she answered, kissing him soulfully.

The kiss shifted within seconds to a battle of tongues and tugging at clothes.

"I've got to get to-," Andrew tried to finish in between kisses, "work."

"Stay," Grace pled, pulling his form to the bedroom. This time, it was for an entirely different reason than the night before.

"I want to."

"But?"

"I've got to pay the mortgage off for this house somehow."

"Well..." Grace bargained, slipping her shirt off and grinning as Andrew's blue eyes expanded, "let's first put this house to some good use."

"Oh Grace. I love the way you think," he stated, slipping his white shirt off with excited fervor.

Grace felt warm heat spread all the way through her body at his words. It was times like these that she really wished she could show Jane how Andrew was at home. How he treated her when his hands stayed away from the bottle. How he loved her with passion equivalent to that of long time lovers.

Right before Andrew tugged her into the bedroom, Grace wrapped her arms around him and closed her eyes as he sucked and kissed at her neck. The sensations were making it hard for her to stand up properly.

Just as she opened her eyes, Grace caught the outline of a figure moving in front of their living room window. They'd gone by so fast that she couldn't have made sure it really was somebody, even though her mind argued against that notion.

_Who could be-._

Her thoughts were cut off as soon as Andrew kicked the door shut and layed her down carefully on the bed.

"I love you," he stated, his blue eyes making contact with her green. "I love you even more because you stay with me. Grace, I-."

His words were struggling to get past his lips so Grace pulled at his arm and watched in approval as he crawled over her form.

"I know Andy," Grace expressed, running a hand through his blond curly locks, "you don't ever have to say it. I'll always know."

With that, Andrew's lips met Grace's and the only thing that could fill her mind was how wrong everyone was. Love was worth the bruises sometimes.

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><p><strong>Another fyi, I appreciate your reviews more than you'll ever know. I don't tend to like angst stories, nor do I like writing them. I don't like conflict between characters who are supposed to be friends. But, I guess I kind of overshadowed my own rule by writing in the abuse. Still, I'm not going to get angsty up in here. There are more important things like mystery, romance, horror, and humor. But if you're still interested, drop off a review. They really do keep me writing. And this story has only just begun.<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Kind of a filter chapter, setting up for the events that are to come. Hopefully you enjoy Grace just as much as I do and her personality. Oh, and thank you very, very, very, very, very, very much for the reviews. Anyways, enjoy.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

Sliding across the floor in her white socks, Grace did a dance and threw her arms up in victory.

"I did it, I did it. Go Grace, it's your birthday," she half sung, half chanted, sliding in circles across the wooden floor.

"Did you learn how to work the microwave again?" Andrew asked, buttoning up his white shirt.

"Nooo...," Grace answered, stressing out the syllable. "Guess who just called."

"Mel Gibson and he wants his crazy back."

Pausing in her dance which threw locks of fiery brown into her face, Grace rolled her eyes.

"Try again. Plus, I thought you loved Braveheart."

"I do," Andrew stated, searching for his cap. "But I always knew Mad Mel had a dark side."

"Really?" Grace questioned, scratching her head, "I heard his dad was Darth Vader."

"Mel, I am your father," Andrew attempted to seriously convey, holding his hand to his chest.

"That would have been an awkward dinner conversation."

Smiling, Andrew asked, "Who called then?"

Snapping out of her daze, Grace jumped up in the air once more and did another cha-cha slide before bending over in exhaustion.

"The manager for Peter Vincent's Fright Night act in Vegas. They're looking for an actress to replace one of the stand in vampire actresses. Apparently my audition tape really wasn't just used as something that creepy director used to jerk off to."

"That's a relief," Andrew mumbled under his breath, searching for his cap.

"But they want me there in two hours! Imagine, my first job and I'll be seen by thousands," Grace eagerly shouted, motioning her hand dramatically across the air.

"It's a Peter Vincent act."

"Alright," Grace shrugged, "hundreds then. Still, it's exciting. That means we'll only be a few miles away from each other during work."

"Do you get off before or after me?"

"A good few hours before you."

"Then you can keep the truck for today. But could you stay in Vegas until I get done?"

"Sure. Why?"

Andrew paused in the search for his cap, giving an embarrassed sigh.

"I haven't done anything nice for you as of late. Tonight, I'd like to shop at the grocery and make a nice meal for you."

Grace attempted to keep her eyebrows from jumping off her forehead just barely.

"Wow."

"If that's a stupid idea then I can-."

"No!" Grace protested, throwing her arms up in front of her. "I'd love that. I forgot how good of a cook you were."

"It's settled then. I just gotta find my damn hat...I think it got lost somewhere under the bed."

"Wonder how it got there," Grace cheekily remarked, grabbing a peach from a bowl on the kitchen.

Throwing Grace a pointed smile, Andrew retreated into the bedroom.

"I've got to be dreaming," Grace stated to herself, making her way toward the front door.

_How is it that last night he was death on wheels and this morning, he's a charmer in armor?_

Biting into her peach, Grace opened the door and frowned slightly at the lingering gray clouds. It had rained during their love making which Grace found romantic and ethereal at the same time. Still, Clark County got a lot of sun and the bleak onyx above seemed unwanted.

Closing the door behind her, Grace stepped out on her porch and relished in the second bite of her peach. They were her second favorite fruit, only shy of black cherries. The more fruit she consumed, the more of home Grace kept with her. In their small two story home back in New York, her family had constantly kept fruit in supply around the house. It was a simple way to stay healthy, her parents would say.

_I can't believe out of hundreds of professional actresses, I got chosen for the role. Well...maybe semi professional. At least I can be proud of not having slept my way to the top._

Grinning, Grace shuffled down the steps of the porch and studied the scenery in front of her.

_I really hope I don't see this for the rest of my life._

It was with that thought that had Grace turn her head to her right and nearly choked on the juice running down her throat. She'd meant to look at Jane's house like she was able to before without any hindrance, but her view was stunted by Jerry's cat like form that leaned casually against the wooden frame of his house. Normally, nothing would be abnormal about the situation.

However, considering how odd things between them had gotten, Grace couldn't help but study him and marvel at the irony. Just as she had a sticky peach in her hand, Jerry has a shiny green apple in his.

Witnessing him bite into it, broke the strange gaze she'd aimed at him.

_Okay, so there can be two people who enjoy eating their fruit on the porch. That's not weird at all._

Laughing somewhat nervously to herself, Grace bit into the other half of the peach. The flavor made her taste buds sing with praise, thanking her for the delicious treat.

Under her breath, Grace muttered, "You're welcome."

Casually turning her head, Grace kept herself still as she noticed Jerry's gaze on her. Even the feel of his brown eyes on her from a good 20 feet away, emitted a glacial impact upon her. She had never met a man with an aura so cold.

Hearing Andrew's shuffling behind her, Grace ventured one last look at Jerry before lifting her semi eaten peach up in the air at him. Taking the hint, Jerry stared down at his apple and lifted his.

"Mine's better," she couldn't help but admit with a grin.

Before Jerry had a chance to reply, Grace turned her head and greeted Andrew who'd just walked out, with a kiss.

"What was that for?" he asked.

"Love," Grace replied, feeling a sharp sense of pride at showing off her boyfriend.

While Jane was skeptical about their relationship, she'd never gone as far as trying to prevent Grace from seeing Andrew. There was a burning need for her to prove Jerry wrong. That Andrew wasn't just a drunk who hit her. He was so much more.

"Our creepy neighbor guy is staring at you," Andrew commented, leading Grace to the garage door on their left.

"How do you know? He could be staring at you," Grace remarked with a wink, not looking behind her once.

Andrew shivered before hitting the garage door opener.

"We need a new car."

Grace nodded her head in agreement as she got inside their old red Chevy pickup. It was Andrew's fathers until he handed it down to his son.

"Maybe we could try to find something cheap in Vegas," Grace offered.

"The only cheap thing in Vegas are the strip clubs," he answered, backing out of the garage.

"Sounds like you know from personal experiences."

"Oh Grace, you know I'm not into that. You're the only girl for me."

"I know."

Pulling out of the driveway, Grace ventured one last look toward Jerry's house, hoping that he could see the put together relationship she was in, but he was gone.

_Oh well. At least the sun is coming out._

GSCGSCGSCGSC

Upon arriving at the stage of the Delgado Hotel and Plaza, Grace found herself momentarily stunned at the theatrics of it all. On stage, a large bed was surrounded by pyrotechnic equipment, smoke machines, and multi-colored lights above. All around, cardboard cut outs looked as realistic as if Grace were to see the objects in front of her. Women on stage moved around like movie stars, dressed perhaps a little less classier, but were beautiful nonetheless.

"Are you Grace Buckley?" a tall, balding man gruffly asked, turning around from his seat in the auditorium.

"Yeah," Grace distractedly said, still keeping her eyes on the sight ahead of her.

The man gave her a once over, taking in a black jacket with white tank underneath and midnight blue denims.

"Sweetheart, you're not thinking of going on like that, are ya?"

Snapping out of her gaze, Grace glanced down at herself and threw a puzzled look toward the man.

"What's wrong with this?"

Laughing, the man jumped out of his seat and approached Grace with a skeptical look.

"What kind of vampires wear regular clothes?"

"The kind that don't want you to know that they're vampires. That's how they fool everyone," Grace knowingly answered with a smile.

"Damn it, you're one of those dreamers. Alright Miss _Lennon_, just put on the outfit we have back stage for you."

Thanking him, Grace ignored the shaking in her knees as she climbed up the steps and located the door to a dressing room behind the curtains.

_I can't believe I'm actually doing this. Wait till Jane hears._

With an extra skip in her step, Grace threw open the door to the dressing room and set to work on making herself resemble a creature of the night.

GSCGSCGSCGSC

Had Grace known anything about the real Peter Vincent and not the one displayed dramatically on tv, she would have never showed up.

It wasn't even the scantily clad form she had to present herself with, even though Grace had constantly kept pulling down at her top, trying to hide at least her belly button. She'd spent nearly a half hour covering up all of the bruises usually concealed by her clothing, with ounces of cover up.

Definitely had nothing to do with the overbearing makeup that might as well have had her walking the streets. She could even overlook the slightly snobbish actresses that pushed past her as if she wasn't there.

No, what really made her snap was the man's attitude. Peter Vincent: ego centric ass extraordinaire.

They hadn't even begun their first scene when Peter walked in and claimed that he didn't like the new replacement. Knowing that he was referring to her, Grace just put her best grin on and told him that she wasn't there for him to like her, but only to do her job.

At this, the actresses around her either snorted or closed their eyes in embarrassment for her.

However, Peter trailed his eyes over her, pointed at his crotch and smirkingly stated in his trademark British accent, "I've got a job for you right here."

Feeling hot flames erupt in her cheeks, Grace ignored the mocking laughter around her and simply stated as sweetly as she could, "Mr. Vincent, I'm sorry that you can't handle being a professional. Similarly, I can now begin to understand why I'm replacing the old actress. I'm here to help not just you, but the show and if I have to put up with an immature little child to do so, then I will."

Silence cracked over the room like a whip as some of the actresses looked on appreciatively at her guts.

Peter, feeling slightly off balanced with her reply, was ready to say something else when the manager, whose name turned out to be Alan, told him to suck it up and that Grace was right. His attendance had been going down and sexually harassing the workers wasn't the way to make the show better.

With heavy reluctance, Peter gave Grace a very dirty glare before beginning his lines.

Grace's job wasn't too difficult. For their first scene, she had to slide around on the bed seductively over their victim, a beautiful blond woman who looked as if she was in the middle of an orgasm.

Having seen plenty of horror flicks as a child, Grace knew that seduction accompanied darkness. Just one taste of it, one touch, had to succumb the victim like nothing else.

When Peter interrupted the show for the second time, he complained that Grace was sliding around the bed like some virgin.

Keeping her anger in check, Grace instead said to Alan, "Do you think I'm sliding around the bed like a virgin?"

It was a tactical move because she knew for a fact there was nothing wrong with her movement. Peter was still angry about her overruling him and Grace knew that Alan would be smart enough to see that.

"Peter, she's doing just fine. Let's get back to the scene."

If possible, Peter's glare was even dirtier the second time. Grace didn't care. In certain circumstances, there were people who got under her skin so viciously that the need to be kind was thrown away. She hadn't learned to act without dealing with her fair share of creeps, however. In the end, she simply ignored him.

And so the scene went on and an hour later, Peter finally paused the production and jumped on to the stage. Some of the girls looked concerned while others looked on in anticipation. They all knew who he wanted to talk to.

"Who taught you to act?"

Sighing, Grace crossed her arms and set her green eyes on Peter's brown ones.

"No one."

"Meaning?" he snapped.

"I taught myself."

Obviously that wasn't what Peter had expected to hear since he'd done a double take up and down her form.

"Well...it's bad. I mean really, really, really bad."

Laughing, Grace looked up at the ceiling and set her hands on her hips.

"Thank you, Peter Vincent. Your opinion means the world to me," she sarcastically replied.

"It'd be nice if you didn't offer yours," he growled back.

"And be like one of the bimbos that you so easily order around? No thanks."

"Those bimbos at least know how to fucking act."

He said this as harshly as he could and Grace, for once, found herself defeated. Sure, she could have went on to argue, but the man was insufferable and wasn't going to back down. There were some jobs that weren't worth the idiots that came along with them.

Sighing, Grace looked down at her half naked form.

_What am I doing here? This isn't me. Sure, it's a role, but strutting around half naked in a city that specializes in that, takes away from individuality. And mom always did say that being true to yourself was more important than fitting in._

"You're right," she stated.

"What?" he asked in confusion, obviously surprised that he'd won the confrontation.

Throwing a glance at Alan who was watching the scene in curiosity, Grace simply announced, "I quit."

GSCGSCGSCGSC

The blinding sun hit Grace's eyes as she left the Delgado Hotel, comfortable to be back in her own clothes. Some opportunities just weren't worth it.

_Andrew doesn't get out for another five hours. What should I do?_

So caught up in her thoughts, Grace didn't hear the voice calling after her at first.

"Grace!"

Having recognized the voice finally, Grace immediately continued walking.

"Oh for fu-. Just, hang on."

When a male arm wrapped around her elbow, Grace spun around and threw her fist out in front of her.

Peter Vincent's head flung back from the contact as blood flew from his nose.

"Ow! Fuck! That really hurt."

"So does being treated like you're worthless."

Her exit was prevented again as he pulled her to him.

"Look, I'm sorry. I was having a bad morning and the actress that you replaced is thinking about suing me."

"Why am I not surprised."

"Just hold off on the hostility for one moment while I explain myself. Honestly, you're a good actress. Hell, you're brilliant. Problem is," Peter said, wiping at the blood, "is that my act isn't for you. We hire women with more sex appeal than talent."

"Oh," Grace stated, once again glancing down at her form.

"No, fuck, no, that's not what I mean," he relayed. "You're beautiful. Gorgeous even. Just...I knew your talent wasn't meant to be limited to some wasted British man's cheap act."

"So you decided to insult me until I got the point?"

Laughing slightly, Peter tilted his head, making his long hair flop with it.

"Didn't quite come out the way I wanted it to. Plus, they usually don't complain back."

Unsure what to think at the sudden shift of events, Grace hesitantly said, "Thank you?"

"No problem," he stated.

"Right, well I'll just get going then."

"Wait. I can also get your name out there. To directors who are looking for that next big star with a shitload of talent."

Raising her eyebrow cautiously, Grace asked, "Do I have to sleep with you for this?"

"No," he chuckled out. "I mean, unless you want to. Certainly helps."

Rolling her eyes, Grace turned around but Peter pulled her back to him once more. This time, his pull had been a bit too strong and sent her falling right into his chest, his arms wrapping on instinct, around her.

Finding herself inside Peter's embrace, a man she would have loved to have strangled only an hour ago, certainly sent strange shivers down Grace's body. His eyes had a weird wounded puppy dog look in them, the brown only proceeding to emphasize that while his words and personality seemed vulgar, the man inside of him was far more haunted.

_Haunted by what?_

Breathing out nervously, Grace glanced down at her hands that were positioned right over Peter's chest.

"If you could get my name out there, I'd really appreciate it. But by no means do I want to rush you," she finally spoke.

Releasing his arms from around her, Peter composed himself and brushed back a lock of his hair.

"Yeah, I will. Don't you worry, Grace Buckley. You'll be a star."

"Great," she laughed, showing her teeth in a radiant smile.

"Are you busy tonight?" he suddenly asked.

Widening her eyes, Grace studied Peter in bewilderment.

"I-yes. My boyfriend is making dinner for me."

"Boyfriend? Right, yeah. Should have guessed."

"Sorry. I didn't even realize you were-."

"I'm not...well, I was...I am. Just, never mind it."

Nodding her head, Grace stood awkwardly in the middle of the sidewalk.

"I'll catch you around then?" Grace asked.

"Definitely," Peter noted, shuffling backwards.

"Wait!" Grace suddenly shouted. "When are you getting off? I've got five hours to kill in Vegas before picking up Andrew and maybe you can show me around or just talk to me about what you're planning for your show."

"Andrew? As in Andrew Richards? The bloke with the blond hair and nasty temper?"

"Yeah. You know him?"

Peter didn't answer at first, simply observing her form. Grace didn't feel naked underneath, just vulnerable. Like there was something specific he was looking for.

Finally, he walked toward her with his eyes trained on somewhere beneath her jaw line.

"He gets fuckin' pissed at the bar all the time here. Drunk that is. I always felt bad for the person he came home to because-."

At this point, Peter cut off his point and looked away.

"He really isn't that bad if he stays away from the bottle," Grace quietly commented, self consciously covering up the bruise that she hadn't managed to get with coverup.

"Hey, I'm not trying to tell you how to live your life. I'm just stating it like I see it."

"Yeah, seems like that's all everyone is doing."

"Sorry," Peter stated. "I think maybe I should go. You'll be having dinner with your boyfriend tonight and we've still got to replace you."

"Sounds like fun."

"Most of the time, I get to fuc-, I mean pick them out."

Snorting, Grace rolled her eyes.

"Nice meeting you Peter."

"And you, Grace."

"Oh...you're pyrotechnic machine is messed up. If you don't be careful, Lena could get her hair burned."

"It's happened before. She doesn't mind."

Raising her eyebrows in suspicion, Peter simply waved his hand at her worries.

"It'll be fine."

"Sure."

The buzz in her front pocket interrupted the conversation. Grabbing her phone, Grace smiled at the caller and waved goodbye to Peter.

"Hey, so how's work going?" Andrew asked, machine drilling nearly blocking out his voice through the phone.

"I quit."

"So soon?"

"The guy was a-," Grace paused, unsure of what to think of Peter Vincent now.

"Loser?"

"No, just not what I was looking for," she mumbled.

"Well, I'm sorry but I know that you had good reason to quit. Tell me all about it tonight. I just want to let you know that I'll be staying an hour later tonight. Someone dropped out of the project and they need me to take the shift. So just go home, get into something sexy, and I'll hopefully get a ride home with Jim."

"Are you sure?"

"Yep. Don't worry Grace, tonight will be wonderful, I promise. See you at eight."

"Alright," Grace replied happily.

"Oh and hun?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you," Andrew added. "Haven't said it nearly enough, but I do."

Beaming, Grace nodded her head.

"I love you too."

With that, Grace shut her cell and made her way to the Chevy.

_Tonight is going to be great. Maybe I'll hold off on the wine until he gets tired. I wonder what he's going to make. _

Not really paying attention to where she was going, Grace felt her shoulder run into a boy's chest. A soft oof flew from his lips as Grace turned her head up sharply to apologize.

"I'm so sorr-, Charley?"

Charley Brewster looked up at her, rubbing at his chest. Upon recognizing her, his features shifted into panic.

"Ah shit. Grace, don't tell my mom, alright?" he quickly pleaded.

"Just as long as you're not skipping school to walk the corner," Grace joked.

"Course not," he stated, splaying the hand on his chest in feign shock.

"Good. So where are you headed anyway?"

Opening his mouth once, Charley's eyes scanned the street before resting on her.

"I'm going to see a friend of mine. He's an expert on...the research project I'm working on."

Laughing, Grace nodded her head.

"You don't have to lie to me Charley."

"I'm not lying."

"Research project? Might as well have said you're going to visit your dying grandmother."

Charley blushed, unsure of what to do or say.

"Hey, I don't need to know where you're going. Just be careful, alright?"

Sighing in relief, Charley said, "Thank you."

"Yep. See ya around."

With that, Charley slipped by her and Grace turned to watch him, just to make sure nothing happened to him. Although she could joke around with him, she also felt a certain amount of responsibility for him that she probably inherited from Jane. Charley was a good kid and Grace would hate to see something bad happen to him.

_That's odd. He's going into the Delgado Hotel. _

Shaking off her curiosity, Grace remembered that it was his life to do with as he pleased.

As his form disappeared, she began walking toward the Chevy.

_I wish I would have been more adventurous at his age. Well, I suppose dating, and then running away from home and across the country with Andrew was pretty adventurous. I guess I'm pretty cool. Oh yeah, I'm cool, it's my birthday...well, was._

Blowing out a tired breath, Grace realized that without Andrew around, she really wouldn't have much of a life. Just talking to herself, eating fruit and picking fights with her neighbors.

_I am not going to think about him._

She only managed to convince herself of that for a moment before the mystery that was Jerry, unfolded inside her mind.

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><p><strong>I think the review button is broken. Won't anyone click on it and see if it works? Thank you my beautiful readers :D!<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**So, mixed reactions with introducing Peter. Hmm...well, I think this chapter will please a lot of those who...never mind. Just read on and thank you for the reviews. They are some of the most warm heartening things to read, especially since my computer has been infected with a very vicious virus which makes it run slow as a snail and randomly exits out of websites...I've tried getting it fixed but it's not working. Ah well, at least I was able to get this chapter up. Enjoy.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

"So I was thinking that we should keep the roast in the oven a little longer, just to make sure it properly gets to cook," Grace noted, kicking shut the oven door with her foot as the potatoes began to boil.

There was no reply from Andrew, so Grace took her own advice and lowered the temperature.

"I've almost forgotten how romantic you can be...something that I shouldn't."

Another bout of silence splurged inside the room, leaving her words to resonate over the white walls.

"Maybe if it's beautiful enough," Grace announced, "we can eat under the stars tonight. That would be really spectacular."

Feeling two male hands encircle her from behind, Grace leaned her head back as she turned down the oven.

"About time," she muttered, placing her hands over his. "I love you."

Grinning as his body covered hers completely from behind, Grace clutched on to the oven rail and closed her eyes at the hands trailing over her front. She was in her standard little black dress which might have seemed boring to some, but made Grace look elegant.

As a hand skimmed over the satin material of her stomach, another hand softly eased pressure on to her shoulder, kneading at the spot carefully. This made Grace nearly purr at the sensation, backing herself into his hardness behind her. Whatever made Andrew decide to be so sensual tonight, garnered no complaints from her.

Nearly jumping in fright at the sudden tongue that danced over her shoulder, Grace rolled her head back and allowed his hand that had been splayed on her stomach, to trail up to the other side of her neck. Grazing the skin there just barely with his fingertips, the other side in which his licking had stopped, soon became replaced with kisses.

Biting back the moans that wanted to break through, Grace was a little bit surprised at herself. Normally she wouldn't yield so quickly to Andrew's touches. If anything, they descended into ecstasy at relatively the same time. This new form of playfulness, mixed in with enigmatic prowl, was turning Grace into a melted puddle of goo.

One hand fell back down and clutched around her middle possessively, as if it was trying to prove a point.

Shifting behind her, his head dipped into the crook of her neck. His other hand entangled itself with hers so that she was completely inside his grasp. She couldn't have escaped even if she tried.

Smiling, Grace refrained from words and simply lifted her hand with his covering it.

And at that moment, all of the blood in her veins suddenly froze, sending her to physically recoil strongly into the body behind her. The hand that held hers was pale with black hair on top. And it was cold, oh so cold that Grace was shocked she hadn't felt it immediately.

Spinning around at the sudden awareness, Grace bit back her gasp as she met Jerry's dark eyes.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she nearly whispered, attempting to back up but having nowhere to go.

He blocked her easily in between the oven and himself.

"I didn't hear you complaining," he observed, settling a finger over her shoulder and smiling at the shivers that ruptured around it as he trailed it down.

"Stop it," Grace commanded, pushing his hand away.

Jerry simply grabbed the hand and pulled it to his lips. Making sure that she was watching, he slowly ran the tip of his tongue over her backhand, the action making him seem feline and predatory at the same time.

"Don't-."

But Grace was cut off as Jerry grabbed her other hand and pulled her body into his.

Smooth warm curves met frigid marble as Grace breathed in at the contact.

"How did you get in?"

Studying her face, Jerry smoothly laughed as if the answer was rather obvious.

"Andrew invited me in."

Realizing that she hadn't heard Andrew moving around, Grace threw a look in sudden panic at the kitchen door.

"Oh none of that," Jerry quickly called soothingly, letting go of one hand and settling it firmly on her cheek.

"What did you do to him?" Grace asked, attempting to sound harsh.

All that came out was a near gasp.

"Nothing he didn't deserve," he replied, forcing her body into the oven behind her as he pressed intimately into her.

_Oh my god._

Grace could feel every inch of him, molded into her. And by far, it left nothing to the imagination. Just pure animal and power that pinned her lower hips.

"I could do so much for you, Grace," he stated, smoothing his thumb over her cheek.

"I want nothing from you," Grace replied bitterly.

"Never rule out the possibilities."

With that statement, Jerry leaned his face into hers and oh so softly kissed her. In all of her heart of hearts, Grace wanted to deny him. To close her lips and not let him in.

But it was nearly impossible with his presence. It screamed and thrashed, enticingly promising her of all the dark passion he could guarantee her. His lips tested out the waters, but his tongue begged for conquest. It was as if Grace knew exactly what he wanted, but didn't understand why he was so patient.

She should have stepped on his foot and kneed him where it hurt, but all Grace could filter was the feel of cold lips possessing her; creating something new which forced her to wrap her arms around him and lean in further to the kiss.

In only seconds, the kiss transformed into heat and tongues, clashing and absorbing. Jerry kept biting at her lips, then kissing away the short, sharp pains. Grace attempted to move from her place, but she was stuck.

It was as if something had taken control of Grace, some unknown force that entered her and was suddenly reluctant to let this man go. She knew she would have never acted like this, but that same force kept asking her if that was accurate. Whether time and time again, she would just open her body to him and allow him to stake claim to it with the ferocious need of an animal. Who did her body truly belong to?

Sighing in relief as his lips left hers, Jerry clutched Grace's form tighter to his and lifted his mouth right next to her ear.

Strangely enough, if Grace found herself in Jerry's presence for a long period of time, his cold body could almost be interpreted as somewhat warm.

"I," he began, running a finger through her hair as he kissed her neck with deliberate slowness, "am going to make you scream my name."

He said this with a laugh, as if it was a stated fact already.

"No," came out of her lips quicker than it had time to process.

"After that," he muttered, his breath springing up a nest of Goosebumps on her neck, "you'll finally be mine."

Fear shot straight to her heart, and with all the will built up in her, Grace sprang her eyes open, hoping for solitude.

Upon opening her eyes, Grace nearly cried out her relief to find herself sitting up on her couch in the den. Darkness filled the room, reminding her that she'd fallen asleep as soon as having gotten home.

"Out of all the saints in Texas," Grace muttered in comfort to herself, feeling the sweat that had built up during her dream. Her entire back was soaked.

_Why in the hell would I dream about Jerry? And not just some normal dream, but an erotic escapade into seduction. Like some scene from a very adult movie._

Ignoring the blush that ascended up her cheeks, Grace kicked off her blanket and made a beeline to the bathroom. She was going to need a long shower.

GSCGSCGSCGSC

When eight o clock appeared on the oven stove, Grace was pouring herself a glass of wine. Despite being too young to drink, she enjoyed wine. There was something so classic about it that reminded her of old movie stars. It gave her a sense of elegance not always felt. As long as she didn't overdo it, then Jane was fine to offer her some or let her take it home. For obvious reasons, she kept it out of reach of Andrew.

Speaking of Andrew, he should have been home right about now. But Grace's nerves were forcing her to get overly excited so she waited until 8:30.

Once 8:30 passed, a cool shiver reminiscent of her dream, seeped down her back.

"I'll call Jim," she finally announced, studying the clock when it reached 8:45.

Dialing the number on her refirgerator, Grace sighed when it was picked up on the second ring.

"Hey Jim, Grace here."

"Grace, how are ya?"

"Fine as freckles. Listen, did Andrew get a ride home with you? That's what he told me when he last called a few hours ago."

"He was going to, but right before work got out, he said he was getting a ride from somebody else."

Scrunching her nose, Grace asked, "Who?"

"I have no idea. He just wished me a good night and left."

Ignoring the quickening of her heart, Grace thanked Jim and hung up.

"Alright, nothing to worry about. He got a ride with someone else."

Sitting herself back on the couch, Grace smoothed down her black dress and relaxed.

_I'll just wait until he comes home._

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By the time that 11:00 hit, Grace had drunk the entire bottle of wine. Her reason for doing that had to do with a phone call she'd taken just a few minutes ago.

"Hello?" Grace quickly said into the phone.

"Hey, Grace?"

"Peter?"

"Hey, I bloody told you it was the right number Alan, you fat bastard."

"Um?"

"Sorry, we were looking up your number from your portfolio."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, but I just wanted to call and tell you that I saw your Andrew down at the bar about an hour ago."

Grace closed her eyes as shook away the breath of relief and disappointment.

"Thank you so much. I was kind of getting worried."

"Grace?"

"Yes?"

"He was..."

"Yes?"

"Ordering drinks left and right. Just gobbling them down."

When a tear drop made its' way down her cheek, Grace didn't acknowledge it.

"Thank you Peter. Is he still there?"

"Grace, are you alright?"

"Just fine. Is he still there?"

"No, he left with someone about a half hour ago."

"Thank you, Peter."

"Grace, I'm so-."

Hanging up the phone, Grace backed up and flung herself down on the couch. Stray tears burned down her cheeks as Grace finally acknowledged something she had been struggling not to believe.

_I can't do this anymore._

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><p><strong>I had a whole bunch more to write, but then I would have done two chapters in one. Anywho, thank you for reading and let me know what you're thinking in a review.<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you once again for your lovely reviews...even the person who called Grace a dumbass. My only reply to that is that love makes you do strange things and gives you hope even when against your better judgment, you should just give up. That might make her an idiot or it might just show that she has a large heart (figuratively speaking). Anywho, enjoy this next chapter!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

The sharp ringing of the doorbell is what awoke Grace the next morning.

Feeling like she was still under a heavy blanket of alcohol, Grace ignored the sound to the best of her abilities but whoever was ringing it, was very persistent.

"For all of the fries in France," Grace muttered outloud, lifting herself up.

She was still in her dress from last night, too drunk to have gotten to her room and changed into her pj's. Or perhaps too angry. She wasn't quite sure. After awhile, the two sort of intermixed.

"Grace, it's Jane. Let me in."

Stumbling off the couch, Grace passed by the bedroom, taking a quick glance to make sure Andrew wasn't in there. She didn't know whether she was surprised that he wasn't, or happy because she wouldn't quite know what to say to him if he was there.

"Jane, I'm not exactly going to look fit as a fiddle when I open this door," Grace warned, her hand lingering over the doorknob.

"You know I don't care," was the reply.

Opening the door, Grace watched Jane take a large step back as the rancid alcohol met her nostrils.

"Geez Grace, what happened? I thought it was Andrew that did the drinking."

Snorting, Grace ran a hand down her dress in slight embarrassment.

"It was a rough night," she explained.

"Oh," Jane remarked, studying Grace's face. "Is Andrew home?"

"No," Grace sighed, holding back the betrayal from the night before, "never came back from the bar last night."

"I had no idea," Jane expressed, grabbing one of Grace's hands. "I was just going to come over here and ask you a favor, but you look like you're falling apart. How about you clean yourself up, get into something comfortable, then come on over and we'll talk about it."

Laughing, Grace glanced up at the ceiling and shook her head.

"I don't know how you do it, Jane. Always being there for me, even when I won't allow myself to ask for help."

"Don't worry about it. It's what neighbors do."

Thanking her once more, Grace followed Jane's advice and jumped in the shower. There would be time to dwell on Andrew later.

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"So he called you and said that he was coming home, but he never got a ride with Jim?"

Nodding her head, Grace accepted the coffee Jane had just made.

"I think what threw me off about it was that he sounded so genuine. Like he actually wanted to...I don't know. Then I get a call from a friend of mine in Vegas telling me that he saw him drinking away at a bar. That's when I kind of lost it, you know? I mean...is it really that bad to have hope in people?" Grace asked, running a hand through her wet locks.

"Absolutely not. But Grace, I hate telling you I told you so. You've invested so much hope into your relationship, hoping that he'd get better, hoping that he'd take his hands away from the alcohol, hoping that he'd change. Sometimes, hope isn't enough."

Grace sipped at her coffee, wanting to desperately agree with Jane. In any other circumstance, she would. Still, something was odd about the whole situation.

This feeling didn't hit her until the haze of her hangover was cleansed away during her shower.

She found herself pondering under the pouring water about how casual Andrew had sounded when he'd called her during the day. How truthful. Like there was nothing wrong.

And then how it was a near shock to her system to find out that he'd gone to the bar. Sure, he may have relapsed and picked up a bottle instead, but why not call her and tell her? Or at least if he felt like he was going to have a drink later on in the day, call her and say that the dinner that night was off. Andrew was curteous enough to do that before he hit the bottle.

Then there was this aura of mystery that she felt whenever Grace tried to pick at the situation deeper. Like there was something she was overlooking or not seeing properly.

_Could Peter have been lying?_

Her initial reaction was no. Why would he lie about something as serious as that?

Which led to the most problematic thing of all that was churning like butter inside of Grace's mind. Why did Andrew find the sudden need to go to the bar? Or to pick up drinks, knowing that she was waiting at home for him? Who bought him drinks? Could there be a woman involved?

"Grace, you keep thinking that hard and you're going to get premature wrinkles."

Rolling her eyes, Grace set her cup on the table and took a deep breath.

"I guess I'm not going to worry about it for now. Believe it or not, Andrew's a smart guy and he'll make his way home somehow."

Glancing at her, Jane nodded her head.

"The question is, are you going to welcome him when he does?"

Closing her eyes, Grace set her hands on her temples and mumbled out, "I don't know."

A comfortable half hour passed by as the noon soon shifted into one o clock and Grace found her spirits inflate in Jane's presence. She reminded Grace a lot of her own mother. Serious when the time called for it and then goofy as the conversation descended into absurdness.

"So what I actually wanted to ask you this morning was a real big favor. I got a call out of nowhere today about a conference that's going to be held in Reno tomorrow. You know one of those that if you manage to get your name out there, you'll be big in the real estate business because there's always some rich big wig that's looking for a summer home. At first, I had no intention of going but with all expenses paid just as long as you get yourself there, it's starting to sound very appealing."

"You've got to go, Jane. You haven't done anything for yourself in a really long time. Plus, there's bound to be some single men wanting a look at your...real estate."

"I swear, sometimes you and Charley's minds are too much alike," Jane laughed.

"We're both overly perverted?"

Refusing to answer, Jane simply brushed off the question with a smile.

"I haven't discussed this fully with Charley yet...he's been so preoccupied. Just sitting in his room, only coming down when I call him."

"You have gotten the memo that he's a teenager, right?"

"Yes, of course. But he hasn't been spending much time with Amy and when he's ignoring the most popular girl in school, that's when you know that something's up. Anyway, if I were to go, I'd leave tonight and I was just wondering if you wouldn't mind checking in on Charely once in awhile. I know he's a teenager, but you know I worry for him."

"I'd do it in a heart beat, Jane. It's the least I could do since my weekend isn't looking like it'll be very busy. That whole Fright Night gig with Peter Vincent was a dud. Last night's attempt at a romantic dinner, was a dud. And so far, today has been a dud. Maybe I can get Charley out of the house tomorrow. Find something in Vegas for us to do...that's legal of course. Saturday is a big attraction day for shows."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. He can even stay at my place if he wants. Well...untill Andrew comes home."

Sighing in relief, Jane exclaimed, "Grace, you're a life saver. I wouldn't go if I knew that it'd be stressful on you."

"Not a problem."

"Wonderful. Well, I guess I'll start packing then."

"Alright," Grace replied, standing up and strolling to the door.

"Hey Grace?"

"Yeah?" she asked, facing straight ahead.

"When Andrew comes home, let me know. I think I might want to talk to him."

Scrunching her eyebrows together, Grace stared at the door in silence.

_I know Jane only wants to help...and maybe I should finally let her. _

"You'll be the first to know."

With that, Grace left Jane's, feeling like a huge weight had been placed back on to her heart on top of Andrew not coming home. How many more things could she possibly face with her heart remaining intact?

_Hey, I'm a strong, independent, and mindful girl. Andrew will make it home with a silly explanation as to why he couldn't make it home and Jane will see the Andrew I see._

A loud bark to the right of her made Grace retreat to the left.

"Oh, hey there Grace. Sorry about Buster. The heat's really getting to him today," Mrs. Morrison yelled, holding back her brown canine as he attempted to buck out of his leash.

"It's fine," Grace informed with a nervous gulp, backing up further across the lawn as Buster growled threateningly at her.

Grace still had the bite mark on her left ankle from the first time she met Buster. They'd just moved into their house when Mrs. Morrison made the mistake of unleashing her dog because the sun was, in her own words, 'melting him'.

Not really seeing the brown blur approaching her, the next thing Grace had felt was the sting of sharp razors biting into her ankle. There was a fair amount of blood from the whole ordeal as Mrs. Morrison kept on apologizing over and over again for her dog's behavior.

Ever since, you could say that Grace wasn't exactly a dog person. Puppies, she liked. But dogs were unfortunately, a pet she tended to stay away from.

Tripping over her legs, Grace fell on to the lawn with an oof as Buster growled and thrashed even harsher, more insistent on releasing himself.

"What has gotten into you?" Mrs. Morrison asked, pulling at the leash as she made her way down the sidewalk.

Picking herself up, Grace raised a curious eyebrow as Buster's growls and barks became nearly deafening.

_He can't hate me that much...can he?_

Confused, Grace followed Buster's eyes to something behind her.

_Just Jerry's house. What's so strange about that?_

Shifting her gaze back at the dog, Grace curiously studied his wild growls once more before Mrs. Morrison pulled him away from the block.

Shaking off the strange event, Grace turned around and found herself on Jerry's front porch.

_Do not think about the dream. Do no think about the dream._

"Damn it, I'm about to think of the dream."

And as her very hot dream came back to her, Grace closed her eyes in embarrassment. There was no denying that she had a creative imagination, but dreaming about her neighbor making animalistic love to her against her oven, a neighbor that she'd only known for two days, really was probably the highlight of her cognitive abilities.

_Did our species really evolve just to have sex dreams about or neighbors?_

Scanning her eyes over the area which Jerry had been leaning against the previous morning, eating his apple, only made Grace shiver slightly.

_I wonder what else he can bite into._

Nearly slapping herself at the thought, Grace backed up some from his front steps, fire erupting in her cheeks.

_Bad Grace! Bad! We are not going to think about our attractive and weird neighbor in that way._

Her threat only worked for about a second before her mind entered smut heaven.

However, all of that was short lived.

Grace had been attempting to look everywhere except Jerry's house when her eyes strayed to a bush right in front of the porch. Normally, a bush was just a bush.

Yet, Grace felt her body cool immediately as she observed something tangled inside of it.

_That looks like-._

Stepping forward carefully, Grace loomed over the bush and kneeled next to it. Clenching her fist once, she tested the prickliness of it. Finding it not overly vicious, Grace reached her hand inside the bush and grabbed the object caught in it.

Reading **L.V. Steel Corp. **in twisty, yellow letters, Grace wiped her thumb over Andrew's cap.

_What the hell is it doing all the way over here?_

Twisting the cap over, Grace read Andrew's first and last name cleanly on the inside of the red bill.

Venturing a glance up at the house, Grace felt a definite shiver pass through her despite the humidity of the day.

Suddenly, all of the humor had been expelled out of the atmosphere.

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"What the bleedin' fuck do you want?"

"Peter?"

Hearing what sounded like a male body hit the floor, Grace pressed the receiver closer to her ear.

"Grace? Hell, if I would have known it was you..."

"Don't worry about it. I just need to know something real quick, alright?"

"Yeah, anything. You hung up fast on me last night. Are you decent?"

Closing her eyes, Grace studied her kitchen and felt detached from it. As if the home she'd had for a year, wasn't a comfortable home at all.

"Yep, I'm good. I just need to know...you said that you saw Andrew down at the bar last night?"

"I did indeed."

"And...you mentioned that he left with someone? Do you remember whether the person was male or female?"

"The person he left with was male," Peter answered with a thoughtful voice. "Oh bleedin' hell, Grace. I didn't know that Andrew was a poof."

"A what?"

"Arse muncher. Boy bouncer. Swung for the same team."

"Oh...no! No, Andrew's not gay."

"Better not be if he's got a girl like you."

"That's really kind of you to say. Now...do you remember anything about this man that he left with?"

"Grace..."

"Peter, please. I can't stress how important this is."

"Alright then...the guy came up first, from what I could tell. There was a girl sprawled on top of me that was getting me a helluva of a handjob. You'd think strippers would just dig and scratch but no, she was-."

"Peter, focus."

"Right...well Andrew came up next to him. They were talking and gesturing. I think the bloke he came with, had black hair. But I couldn't be sure. He was tall too. Anyway, the black haired guy was the one that gestured for the drink. From then on, the girl on top of me gave me one hell of a ride. Hard, fast, incredible...and I'm straying from the subject again. Next time I got a good look at the bar, Andrew was drinking like an apocalypse would happen if he didn't. Bloody impressive, I have to admit."

"And what about the man that was with him."

"Wasn't around as far as I could tell until it neared 10:30. You'd think the guy, seeing Andrew get hammered, would order something for himself. Nope. Just had in his hand a bleedin' apple. Can you believe it?"

Grace dropped the phone and stared ahead of her in shock.

_No...that's impossible. _

Falling to the floor, Grace quickly plucked the receiver to her ear.

"Peter...I need a huge favor."

"Anything for you, Buckley."

"Can you meet me tonight?"

"Tell me the place, and I'll try to get there sober. Well...semi sober...ish."

"Would it be too much trouble for you to come here to Clark Country?"

A pause met Grace's ears as she could hear glasses clinking in the background.

"Yeah...I think I can do that."

"I'm not going to try and seduce you."

"What a pity."

"I just need you with me because Andrew didn't come home last night, and still isn't home. That might not be anything big to worry about, but I found his cap on my neighbor's lawn in one of his bushes. I want to be with someone when I confront him."

"Shouldn't you call the police?"

"And tell them that my alcoholic boyfriend who has a history of abusing me, disappeared after a night of drinking? They'll probably think I got rid of him myself. Plus, it sounds stupid and naive. Normally I would even agree with those notions. Problem is...I don't think Andrew was planning to go to the bar. I don't even think he was going to drink. And...I don't think he ran off. Please, Peter...I don't know who else I can trust."

_Best not get Jane involved what with her big trip and all._

"Damn...when you put it that way, how can I refuse? But I'm bringing three bottles of whisky with me. If the night is going to get freaky, then so am I...don't worry Grace, I'm a fun drunk."

"That's a relief," Grace laughed.

"I should be there some time around six thirty? It's the earliest I can get off...I'll reschedule the rehearsals for some other time."

"You have no idea how much I appreciate this."

"Yeah...well, it's nice meeting a girl who's not wanting sex right away. You're a really good talker and I like that."

"You're not drinking already, are you?"

"Me? Drinking at two in the morning?"

"It's the afternoon."

"It is the afternoon...I was just testing you. You pass! Give me your address and I'll be there."

Relaying the proper information, Grace hung up on Peter with a smile. That is, until she remembered why he was coming over in the first place.

_Maybe Andrew'll come home. There's still time...but damn it, he's never been gone this long before...especially with no explanation._

"There's nothing to worry about," Grace mumbled to herself. "Worst scenario...my neighbor is a serial killer who slaughtered my boyfriend."

Laughing nervously, Grace fell back on to her couch with a sigh.

_I just had to have a sex dream about him._

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><p><strong>Let me know what you are all thinking in a review :D!<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**Due to the decrease of interest for this story and just because I don't think this appeals to what you guys want to hear, I've decided to limit how often I update. Everyone else, thanks for the reviews. Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

"I'm glad you could make it," Grace expressed, opening the door.

Dressed in black skinny jeans and a white vintage shirt with a band called 'The Housemartins' on it, Peter swaggered in with two whiskey bottles.

"Funny story that is. First place I got to, I opened the door just to discover it was the wrong house. Blimey, the dad had a shotgun on me in seconds," Peter explained with a laugh, setting the bottles down on the kitchen table.

Smiling, Grace closed the door against the cool night air and followed him into the kitchen.

"What happened to bringing three whiskey bottles?" she asked, raising a curious eyebrow.

"Another funny story. So I was driving here and a moose, out of all creatures, jumps out in the middle of the road. I smash to a halt cause you know, I'm not a moose killer. Anyway, one of the bottles becomes uncapped, flings into the air and lands right in my mouth. My only option was to drink the bloody thing dry."

"But moose don't-."

"It was a moose!"

"Right," Grace remarked, nodding her head unconvincingly. "I almost didn't recognize you with your short hair."

Running a hand through the messy tresses, Peter blew at his bangs.

"Need a hair cut for these ruddin' things. So, Grace, any news on your Andrew?"

"None. I'm thinking about calling the police eventually, just to file a missing persons report if we find nothing at Jerry's."

"Jerry?"

"Yeah," Grace replied, pulling her hair into a loose ponytail. "He's my neighbor."

Peter stood glued to the floor, staring at Grace.

"Jerry doesn't have a neighbor by the name of Charley, does he?"

Pausing, Grace found Peter's gaze in confusion.

"Yes. Charley Brewster. I'm good friends with him and his mother. How'd you know that?"

"Sorry to tell ya this Grace, but that Charley's a bleedin' nutter," he remarked, wrapping his hand around a whiskey bottle. "Came to see me yesterday and just puts all of this freaky business on me about his neighbor Jerry this, and his neighbor Jerry that."

Keeping her breaths even, Grace stepped up to Peter's swaying form and said, "Why did he want to talk to you about Jerry?"

"Oh Grace, you'll love this part," Peter exclaimed, clapping his hand against his knee as he took a large swig from the bottle. "This Charley claimed that your neighbor, Jerry, is a vampire. Crazy, innit?"

"Charley said that?" Grace questioned, mulling over the words.

_What in the world would possess him to accuse Jerry of being a vampire? That's ridiculous. _

Against her better judgment and because she knew Charley too well, Grace shook off her initial doubts.

"Well...did Charley have any proof?"

Taking Grace in with slight shock, Peter set the bottle down next to him.

"You don't actually believe him, do you?" he asked indignantly.

"Charley isn't the type of kid to skip school, travel a half hour to Las Vegas to meet a man who's an expert on the supernatural, and try to lie about his neighbor being a vampire. I mean what sort of satisfaction would he get from that?"

"The type that sickos get."

"He's 16 years old! He only just got his first girlfriend this year. Peter, I'm telling you, Charley is a good kid. Now tell me what he told you."

Reluctantly, Peter took a seat on a den couch, unsure how to approach the subject that had been on his mind for longer than he wanted to admit.

"He said that Jerry was a vampire...can't believe I'm actually considering this possibility...then told me he'd managed to get inside the guy's house and take pictures of things."

"What kind of things?" Grace asked, leaning closer to him.

"Just rubbish stuff...I don't know Grace. I didn't take any of the shit seriously. And neither should you," he answered, pulling out a cigarette.

Finding herself pondering on the information, Grace wanted to initially agree with Peter. It was unheard of. Vampires belonged in cheaply made Hollywood movies. Not in a real life Nevada town. Still, a part of her remembered the abnormal coolness of Jerry's body and paleness of his skin. How she never seemed to see him in the day time, unless it was cloudy. Or-.

"Dogs. Can they sense a vampire's presence?"

Raising his eyebrow, Peter spread his legs and blew out some smoke dejectedly through his lips.

"It's just a bloody joke. Fuckin' teenage kids and all."

"Humor me," she noted.

Sighing, Peter glanced up at the ceiling and laid a hand over his right temple.

"Animals have long been thought to be able to detect not just spirits, but supernatural activity in general. Dogs in particular have a keen...oh it'd be like a sixth sense of sorts. Anyway, they feel something different in the air before any humans do. A very acute sense of perception just in the atmosphere. The greater presence there is of it, the wilder it drives them."

Nodding her head, Grace studied the window in her den. It was too dark to see anything outside. She wasn't sure whether that was a good or bad thing.

"Dare I ask...why?"

"This dog kept barking at his house today...just going crazy," Grace mumbled under her breath, suppressing a shiver at how vicious Buster had gotten.

"Dogs get crazy in this kind of heat," was his reply.

"Yeah," Grace agreed, standing up. "Well...I guess we better get a move on then. Jerry usually leaves during the night."

Finishing the rest of his cigarette, Peter discarded it in a nearby trash can and breathed in.

"It's not like we're going out on a date or something," Grace commented, amused at his sudden nervousness.

"I know, I know," Peter responded. "Just all this talk of the supernatural gets my juices running."

"Just don't get any of your juices all over my floor," Grace cheekily replied.

"Because we would really hate that," was his sarcastic answer.

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Knocking on the door with slight hesitance, Grace once again became thankful that Peter's presence was directly behind her. It wasn't like she got shaken up often, much less legitimately scared. But Jerry's behavior as of late, coupled with what Peter had seen, only seemed to intensify her anxiety.

"Maybe Jerry is sucking Andrew's neck dry as we speak," Peter whispered lowly into her ear.

"Oh shut up," she mumbled back, hitting him in the chest weakly.

Before Grace had the chance to knock again, the door slowly swung open and Jerry's form appeared from within the darkness behind him.

Sure Grace had blushed when she had looked at his house, remembering the dream she'd had. However, it was nothing compared to actually seeing him physically in front of her.

Forgetting to breathe, Grace simply smiled as Jerry's dark eyes met hers in curiosity.

"Grace, good to see you. Please excuse me, I'm-," he paused, glancing behind him with a smirk, "-entertaining a guest."

"Not at all," Grace expressed, sharing a quick look behind her with Peter. "I'm just here because my boyfriend, Andrew, hasn't come home yet. And my friend Peter-."

At this point, Peter extended his hand gleefully but Jerry simply stared at it with a raised eyebrow.

Observing his hand, Peter didn't notice anything wrong with it. Sure his fingers may have been a bit stained with nicotine and his silver ring was a bit rusted, but he found it to be satisfactory. Actually, very, very satisfactory on certain nights when he was feeling-.

"-said that he saw what might have been you with him at a bar last night."

Nodding his head, Jerry stepped on to the porch, making Grace retreat slowly into Peter's chest behind her.

"I did see Andrew earlier in the day. He doesn't work far from where I do. Met him, introduced myself and told him it was a pain working in the Vegas heat. Asked him if he wanted to get a couple of beers but...he said he was busy that night," Jerry admitted, his eyes lingering on Grace's form for a second too long. "Anyway, that was the last time I saw him. I'm sorry, but I came home after that to get ready for a night out with Beverly. Tonight, we decided on my place."

"Beverly?"

Throwing a glance behind him, Jerry whistled once and a woman appeared.

Hearing a gasp released behind her, Grace knew exactly why Peter was stunned by the woman. She was absolutely gorgeous. Long black hair waved beautifully around her face and down to the underside of her breasts. Pale skin was illuminated brightly beneath the moon light, resonating a whole new youthful aura. A short blue dress covered her fragile frame as she placed an arm around Jerry with a smile.

_She looks like she belongs on Peter's stage. _

"This is Beverly," Jerry introduced, throwing his eyes back to Grace.

"Hello," Grace said, still in awe of her beauty.

Peter, always being the more hands on type, lifted his hand out for her to shake.

Unlike Jerry's calculating look, Beverly didn't think twice before slipping her hand into his and then giving out a whimpering snarl as she ripped her embrace away from Peter's.

Peter retreated his hand once again, staring at the limb in surprise. Studying it, he gulped as he noticed the silver on his ring finger, spewing out smoke. As if it had just been burned.

"You must excuse Beverly," Jerry answered, his tone suddenly decreasing in humor. "I believe that she's not use to much casual touching since last night."

Understanding the innuendo, Peter laughed graciously, trying to dismiss what it was that he'd just seen.

Beverly disappeared back into the shadows as Jerry's form replaced the doorway.

"That's alright," Grace replied with good humor.

To be completely honest, she was confused as ever. Jerry didn't allow Beverly to say a single word. And she seemed to go along just fine with it, minus the strange yelp she'd let out at shaking Peter's hand, something that Jerry avoided altogether.

_Do they get up to playing some master and servant?_

"I found Andrew's hat in your front bush," Grace suddenly expressed, flinching at the nerves riding the statement.

Laughing slightly to himself, Jerry answered, "Forgot to get that back to him. He lent it to me after I mentioned the heat pouring down on me."

"Don't you do nighttime construction?"

Tilting his head to the side, Jerry scratched his stomach.

"Grace, what do you want me to say? That I stalked your boyfriend down, got him drunk, then took him over here and murdered him?" he asked, amusement bouncing in his voice.

"No, of course not!" Grace proclaimed. "I'm sorry...I just...when Peter thought he saw you and the cap in your yard. Could you just...ask anyone around the work area if they've seen him? I'm really worried because he's never been gone this long."

"Absolutely. I don't want you to worry, Grace. Knowing myself, he's probably sleeping off a hangover. And he hasn't called you maybe because he's disappointed about not keeping his promise. But when I get back to work next week, I'll ask around."

"I appreciate that more than anything," Grace relayed.

"I'm at your disposal," he replied, glancing down at her legs that were wonderfully displayed in manila shorts.

Leaning herself further into Peter behind her, Grace only smiled as she tugged at Peter's form.

Taking the hint, Peter announced, "We should probably get going. Nice meeting you then, gent."

"Yes, and sorry for the inconveniance," Grace remarked, making her way hurriedly across his lawn.

Peter watched Grace's form retreat into the darkness, confused as to her sudden haste.

"Hey, guy," Jerry added just as Peter was descending down the steps.

"Hm?" Peter questioned.

Gesturing him forward, Peter followed the steps back up, having a strange feeling ignite within him. His brown eyes connected with Jerry's dark ones and a sickening nostalgia reignited from somewhere deep inside him.

Finally, when Peter was only within inches of the man, Jerry threw an arm around him, licking at his lips.

"Best not," Jerry began softly, his tone darkening, "sniff around another man's mate."

Keeping his body still, Peter felt fear enter him. He didn't know where it had come from, how it had entered, or why exactly the damn alcohol wasn't driving it away. But what he did know was that Jerry was being more than serious.

"I'm not...we're just friends," Peter stumbled out, his voice thick with hesitation. "Besides, when Andrew comes back-."

His finishing words were interrupted with a laugh.

Meeting his eyes, Jerry cast a quick glance toward Grace's house before capturing Peter's stunned gaze.

"I'm not talking about Andrew."

Seemingly numb, Peter didn't feel Jerry's arm lift off of his shoulders, and then pat him on the back. Nor did he witness Jerry shutting the door. All he remembered was a trickle of fear sliding down his back like an eel.

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"Well, I should probably get going," Peter exclaimed upon entering the house.

He paused at Grace's form which was currently tapping her chin thoughtfully.

"What's happening inside that head of yours?"

Catching Peter's eyes, Grace stated, "I want to see the security video from the bar."

Coughing, Peter felt the same anticipation build up from only minutes ago.

"You don't believe him?"

"I want to check all of the possibilities," Grace simply answered.

Peter's would be reply was cut off by the sound of the phone ringing.

"Hey Jane," Grace answered, plucking the receiver to her ear.

"Grace, I talked the trip over with Charley and he said that he doesn't want to be home alone. Imagine, a teenager not wanting to be home alone while his mom is gone for the weekend. Anyway, would it be okay if he stayed with you for the weekend?"

"Of course."

"And...has Andrew gotten home yet?"

Studying Peter's form, Grace hesitantly replied, "No, not yet."

"I hope you know what you're going to do when he does."

Nodding her head, Grace only responded, "Have a great time on your trip and tell Charley to come over any time he wants."

With that, Grace hung up the phone with a sigh.

"I really should get going," Peter piped up, throwing his hands toward the door.

"Of course. Thank you so much for what you've done. Not many guys would be nice enough," Grace answered, approaching him.

Peter was paralyzed in place, Jerry's warning ringing clearly in his head.

"Least I could do for treating you like shit," he managed to mumble out, silently praying that Grace would keep her distance from him.

By this time, there was no denying the fact that he liked her. Really, really liked her. She had a sense of humor that rivaled his own while a soft innocence inside her that remained lost around the women he surrounded himself with. Liking her wouldn't even justify just exactly what his entire body felt. But, deep inside, Peter knew he was a scaredy cat. All those years ago, hiding as a child while a monster murdered his parents.

_None of it's real._

Nevertheless, the threat placed upon him only minutes ago, struck a very real cord inside him. Peter wasn't going to get caught up inside something that he initially had no business being around. Grace had a boyfriend...bastard that he was, Grace still loves him.

_What about that Jerry bloke? He practically roared "hands off!" and claimed her all in one statement._

Ignoring his body's attraction to Grace, Peter allowed himself to platonically accept the hug she embraced him in...for about thirty seconds.

_Oh are those her soft breasts pressed into my shirt? Never washing this bloody shirt again. Ah if I was just to reach my hand down, I could feel instead of just watch that cute-._

Snapping himself out of it, Peter felt Grace kiss him casually on the cheek.

_Damn it, why is it always the naive ones that always seem to try my patience?_

Before Grace had time to retreat, Peter turned his head and met Grace's lips with his own.

At first, Grace didn't do anything. She simply allowed Peter's lips to manouver around hers.

_I can't believe he's kissing me._

But that thought soon evaporated as she'd accidentally swung her lips open and felt Peter's tongue dive in. Fighting, then retreiving, Grace's kiss with Peter made the inside of her tummy tickle as euphoric spasms trickled their way down and in between her legs.

"Peter-," Grace struggled to say, pushing herself out of the kiss.

"Shit...oh shit," Peter muttered, throwing himself back into the door behind him as he wiped a cautious hand over his lips.

"It's just that...Andrew and-."

"No, Grace, I'm sorry. I don't know what the fuck I was thinking. I think I'm going to go and drink away that idiotic move," he noted, grabbing the door knob behind him.

"Peter...it was-," Grace attempted to express, very well aware that Andrew had never kissed her like that before, "-nice. Very, very nice. But it's the wrong time."

"Got it. I was letting my bottom bits lead me."

Laughing nervously, Grace ran her hand down her shorts as Peter opened the door.

"Thanks for the company," she commented, unsure where to look.

"Any time," Peter answered, backing up as red began to arise in his cheeks.

"Have a safe drive."

"Yep," he remarked.

Fighting down his embarrassment, Peter turned around and slammed straight into a body.

"Peter Vincent?"

Taking in Charley's form in the dark, Peter cursed inwardly.

"Not talking to you, nutter boy. Run along to Grace's and allow me to kindly piss off," Peter answered, pushing past Charley's stunned form.

Hurriedly throwing himself inside the safe, expensive luxury of his car, Peter distinctly heard Charley opening and then closing Grace's door.

_Shit! I left the damn bottles inside._

Venturing a glance toward her house, Peter ignored the temptation to go back for them.

_I'll just have to drink double that when I get back._

With that, he sped off, ignorant of the dark eyes that had been pasted on him as soon as he'd stepped outside.

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"What was Peter Vincent doing inside your house?" Charley asked, throwing his bag down.

Wiping at her lips nonchalantly, Grace replied, "We're friends. I was one of the actresses on the set of his show...lasted only two hours...but we stayed in touch and that was me inviting him over."

"Won't Andrew get mad?" Charley questioned, his eyes scanning various rooms.

"Andrew's not here...he um," Grace rambled, turning her feet toward the kitchen, "he's missing."

"What?" Charley sharply asked.

"Nothing to worry about though, I'm sure. He's a big boy, he can find his way home. But just in case, I'm going to try the police tomorrow morning."

"They can't do anything about it," Charley answered, his voice slightly detached.

Spinning around, Grace threw a confused glance at Charley.

"What are you talking about?"

Just as Charley was about to answer, the door bell rang.

"Must be your mom," Grace acknowledged. "Come in!"

The door opened and Charley retreated harshly into Grace's body, causing her to fall backward.

"Ow! Charley, watch your balance there bud," Grace proclaimed, feeling fire erupt in her kneecap once again.

Hearing footsteps approach her, Grace moved her foot, testing its limits. Definitely was walkable on.

"Let me help you up."

Freezing, Grace flung her head up and met Jerry's brown eyes.

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><p><strong>And there we go. I'd love to know what you're thinking through a review :).<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**Wow, so there may have been a bit more people interested in this story than I realized. I kind of deduce interest level based on reviews so I wasn't sure if what I was writing, was suddenly going down hill. Anywho, realistically speaking, I sort of lost inspiration and a little thing called school began and never having written an FF story during the school year, I've realized how difficult it is to take time from everything else in order to write a chapter. But, I eventually got to it and I would never have done it without my reviewers. Honestly, thank you so, so, so, so, so much. They're some of the best type of inspiration I get. I really hope that this next chapter doesn't blow so as always, enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

"Yeah," Grace finally answered, surveying Jerry's looming form above her.

Her next actions were taken almost mindlessly as Jerry's cool hand wrapped around her warm one, pulling up with relevant ease.

Once on her feet, Grace fought down the sudden anxiety that had spilled open somewhere near her gut area. Like sharp razors, her own body was warning her of something she couldn't quite yet detect.

"Thought you were Jane," Grace ended up mumbling out, having nothing better to say.

Ignoring the particularly dark scowl that had materialized briefly over Jerry's lips, Grace ventured a look toward Charley, only to see him pressed against her kitchen wall, eyes full of fear.

"Charley," Grace smiled, padding toward him, "you look like you've just seen a ghost."

Charley's eyes further widened, his mouth opening and closing as if he were a fish out of water.

"You-you invited him in," he finally sputtered out.

Shaking her head in confusion, Grace pondered over his words and remembered Peter's tale.

_But none of it is real._

Still, the fear which masked Charley's face could not have been faked.

"Does he think I'm a vampire or something?" Jerry input from directly behind Grace, his frosty breath slamming into the back of her neck.

"Don't you dare, you asshole! You killed Ed, and now you're going to kill me because I know what you are," Charely angrily shouted, stepping away from the wall with an accusatory finger pointed at Jerry.

"Charley, language," Grace noted, not quite angry but unsure why such antipathy existed inside Charley.

"Just a word of warning Grace," Jerry stated quickly, slipping an arm over her shoulder as his body slithered itself right next to hers, "it's usually at this age that kids like Charley get into drugs."

Ignoring the attempt at conviction in Jerry's voice, Grace instead watched Charley's face pale.

"Grace," he brokenly said, running a quaking hand through his hair, "you've got to believe me."

Switching her gaze toward the man beside her, Grace studied Jerry's deep brown irises as his thumb lightly dragged down her shoulder. There was something behind the ease in which his face relaxed itself. Almost like a hidden malice or malignancy that the victim in a horror movie didn't see until just before the psycho serial killer plunged his knife into her body.

Forcefully meeting Charley's eyes, Grace attempted to ignore the shivers that sprouted as a result of Jerry's ministration.

_Charley can't be crazy. Jane raised a good kid. Still, this vampire business is ridiculous. Right? Damn it, what do I do?_

And like an animated lightning strike from a fictitious cloud above, it hit her.

Shaking off Jerry's heavy arm, Grace shuffled toward Charley, her eyes searching his.

_There's nothing but fear and truth in them. God, I hope I don't end up making myself look like an idiot._

"Surely you don't believe him?" Jerry asked with humor slowly forcing it's way out of his voice.

Charley immediately retreated, his eyes pleading an unspoken action.

"Alright, I've got an idea," Grace began, throwing her green eyes toward Jerry's brown ones. "When I was a kid, I went through horror movies like a starving man gulps down water. A good portion of them were vampire movies and I find myself a bit of an expert on the subject since most of the typical vampire rules seem to have some truth to them."

Checking both male's gazes to make sure that they were still locked on her, Grace lifted up her hands.

"Here's what I'm going to do-."

"Grace, wait," Jerry interrupted suddenly, stepping forward. "I was just coming over to tell you that I got a call from Andrew. He wants to talk to you right now."

Grace's finishing words died on her lips as her mouth opened.

"Grace, he's trying to distract you. He doesn't want you to prove that he really is a vampire," Charley sputtered indignantly, furious tears building in his eyes.

"Grace," Jerry stated again calmly, tugging at her arms as he neared her, "he's waiting for you on the phone in my house right now. He sounded desperate, maybe scared. He said that you're the only person he could call. That you never give up on him, no matter what."

Allowing Jerry's hand to softly wrap around her wrist, Grace felt panic trickle down her spine. Andrew was still alive, and needed her help.

"Grace!"

Charley's voice came out as a choked gasp, tears finally running down his cheeks as he watched Jerry further tug her into his embrace.

Or did Andrew really need her help?

"Jerry," Grace proclaimed, slipping her hands out of his grip.

"Yes?" he nearly growled out, his presence building over her like a wave of darkness.

Silence entered the room and crackled like electricity, awaiting Grace's answer.

"I revoke your invitation."

Grace's words vibrated over the dead air, slicing it like fine meat.

Jerry simply stood glued to his spot, his features unreadable.

Nothing happened.

Blowing out a sigh of relief as a minute trailed by, Grace turned toward Charley and relayed, "Definitely no vampire activity here, Charley. See, in the movies, once an invitation is revoked-."

The rest of Grace's statement was interrupted by the sound of a foot striking the hallway floor with a loud **Slam!**

Spinning her head at the sound, Grace backed up slightly as she watched Jerry's face contort into an animalistic snarl, his feet moving backwards against his will.

**Slam!**

Another leg made its way backward as Jerry gritted his teeth and to Grace's amazement and Charley's horror, two sharp fangs gleamed threateningly in the light from behind his twisted mouth.

**Slam!**

It was like watching an invisible force press against Jerry's form, his feet further retreating back as he attempted to reach forward or at least fight the aggression pushing into him.

**Slam! Slam!**

The front door swung open without explanation, greeting Jerry as he struggled at a last attempt to accelerate himself forward. Instead, the same urgent force swung into his body with a deep blow and flung Jerry out into the cool night, the door swinging shut firmly after him.

"Of all the goats in Switzerland," Grace blew out, her hand covering her mouth in shock.

Never having understood any of the times that Grace muttered out one of her crazy phrases, Charley for once in his life, couldn't have agreed any more with what she'd said.

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"Is he out there?" Charley asked nervously, sipping from a Pepsi can as he leaned further back into the living room couch.

"Nope," Grace answered, her eyes scouring her front yard once before letting go of the curtains. "Even if he is, I revoked his invitation. What's he going to do?"

Charley threw a pointed look her way, forcing Grace to nod her head in admission.

"So Jerry is a vampire," she finally stated, licking her lips as the words flew into the atmosphere.

They tasted foreign and odd, like saying them was an anomaly in itself.

"Yep."

"Hmm...," Grace pondered, not quite grasping on to this sudden revelation.

But she'd seen it for herself. Jerry had fangs. Smooth, white, and utterly sharp. Hell, her own house had forced him out...

"This house isn't really mine," Grace muttered to herself, thinking back to when she and Andrew first moved in.

Opening his eyes, Charley set down his Pepsi and stared inquisitively at Grace.

"What do you mean?"

"Andrew was the one that bought the house from your mother. Signed the lease and everything. This house is technically under his name."

"So that means-."

"Andrew is still alive!" Grace shouted out loud, her grin racing across her lips in joy. "In the vampire flicks, if the owner is dead, then the vampire would have been able to stay inside the house."

Charley smiled at her happiness, relived to finally see a smile.

That is, until both of their mirth was abruptly stopped by a knock at the door.

"Grace, I'd like to talk to you."

"That's too bad, Jerry," Grace replied stonily, keeping her eyes on the door.

The knocking ceased, but Charley and Grace both sensed Jerry's presence linger outside of the door.

A mocking laugh made its way through before Jerry remarked, "Your boyfriend is currently bleeding to death in my basement. He's probably alive...I'm not quite sure. Surely, you'd love to visit him."

Shaking slightly, Grace felt her feet move toward the door.

"How do I know that you really have him?" she asked softly despite the inner turmoil sloshing around inside her.

On the other side of the door, Jerry's lips curled upwards, his head resting on the door in amusement as his teeth ran over his fangs, lapping at the blood resting there.

"You don't."

By the time he had finished his phrase, Grace was at the door, anger fueling her as she ripped it open.

The entryway was empty, only Jerry's menacing threat still hanging in the doorway.

"You're not actually thinking about going over there, are you?" Charley questioned after a few silent minutes.

"I have to," Grace answered quietly, more to herself.

"Grace-."

"Charley, I want you to go to your house and don't let anyone in, alright?"

"Grace-."

"No, listen. I'm going to the bastard's house, getting Andrew, and coming to your place. You can't argue and your mother put me in charge of you. Do as I say," Grace commanded.

Charley opened his mouth once to say something, but then closed it at the strictness in Grace's voice. He'd never heard her so...on edge before.

"Do you really think that Jerry is just going to let you walk out of there with Andrew?"

For the first time that night, Grace closed her eyes in hesitation.

"I don't know."

"Grace, he took Andrew for a reason."

"I don't care to know what that reason is right now. Now, go get your things."

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"Are you sure about this?" Charley whispered as they stood on Jerry's lawn, peering at the darkness surrounding his house.

"I have to," Grace repeated once more, studying the slightly ajar door.

"And what if you don't come back?"

Grace turned around and faced Charley, taking his hand into hers.

"I'm going to return, alright? Jerry messed with the wrong New Yorker," Grace promised, meeting his eyes confidently.

Lifting his bag, Charley placed the strap in Grace's hand.

"What's this?"

"My reassurance," Charley answered.

Glancing inside the bag, Grace's lips conformed into puzzlement.

"Charley," she responded, picking up a wooden stake, "do you really expect me to murder another person?"

"Grace, you're forgetting that Jerry isn't human. You can't ever forget that. This is the same creature who took Andrew and murdered my best friend. Trust me, you're going to have to use this sometime when your inside that house if you want to survive until morning."

"I-," Grace began, fingering the smooth oak as it laid comfortingly in her hand. "How do I get close enough to use it?"

Glancing around him, Charley's left hand disappeared behind him, only to reappear seconds later with a silver gun in hand.

Feeling her heart stop, Grace placed the stake back inside the bag and stared.

"Please tell me that this is your way of asking me to join the NRA."

"Right before you decide to stake Jerry, shoot him."

"Charley, where did you get this?"

"Mom bought it after dad left. Carried it around with us, just in case we'd ever have to use it. Shoot him so he's down, then stake him."

Meeting his eyes, Grace allowed the gun to be placed into her palm, the frigid cold of the metal contrasting harshly with the sweat pulsing in her hand.

"I'm guessing you know how to use it?"

Swiping at her dry lips, Grace switched the safety on and off, before cautiously lifting her shirt and sheltering it inside her jeans.

"You should know right now," Grace commented, taking a deep breath, "that whatever happens in there, you don't come in after me. And when you get to that point where you just can't bare it any longer, at least wait until the sun comes up. Do you understand?"

Nodding his head, Charley took in Grace's tall, almost regal form. She stood oddly still despite someone whose boyfriend was probably enduring gruesome torture. Blowing back from a night breeze, her dark hair framed the heartshaped paleness in her face under the moon's glow. Clearly nervous, her green orbs gave away nothing and for the first time in his life, Charley truly witnessed Grace's appeal.

It wasn't that she wasn't attractive or wasn't his type. Realistically, he'd been too caught up in chasing Amy in order to really notice, much less ogle at his neighbor. Grace had always been more of a close, personal friend rather then someone he'd develop a crush on.

But it was this sudden recognition of Grace's beauty that stirred something inside him. Something important. Something that his mind was trying ruthlessly to reach, but the thought kept slipping through a torn net.

Reluctantly acknowledging the fact that he wasn't going to figure out the dire thought in time, Charley simply observed Grace one last time.

"Kick his fucking ass," he remarked.

Hugging Charley, Grace watched him as he turned and briskly sprinted into the darkness of his home.

Turning back to the house, Grace observed the structure with careful calculation. Charley's words from earlier before had kept ringing inside her mind.

"_He took Andrew for a reason."_

Shaking off a sudden bout of shivers, Grace lifted the strap over on to her opposite shoulder, attempting to calm herself by thinking of the objects inside the bag.

_I'll garlic bread him to death. Better yet, throw holy water at him as if I'm ridding him of a demon. How the hell am I even supposed to get a stake through him?_

As if right on cue, a cool pressure strapped to her thigh answered her question.

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><p><strong>Confrontation time comes in the next chapter. Let me know what you're thinking in a review. I'll try to update more frequently.<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you very much for the reviews, especially the ones that ramble. I'm a sucker for long reviews and they make me feel loved. Don't know what you'll all think about this chapter, but I do hope you enjoy it.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

As much as Peter Vincent wanted to down the brand new bottle of Brazilian tequila that Ginger had managed to throw at him only moments before, he couldn't help but savor one last time, the taste of Grace's lips upon his own.

It'd been a long time since he'd tasted something other than alcohol or cigarettes on someone else's lips and the absorbent rush of faint peaches was embarrassingly foreign to him. Almost as if that type of innocence was to often withheld from him and tasting it once more was a shock to the senses.

"Shit," Peter whispered out, throwing himself carelessly into a couch behind him. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, sh-it."

Glancing down at the bottle, Peter's thoughts ran back to the object of his cursing. Why did he have to be a brain dead idiot and set himself up for disappointment when he perfectly knew that Grace was with Andrew? The bastard may have treated her like crap, but she saw so much inside him that that it didn't matter.

Maybe that's another reason Peter liked her so much. If she was able to look past the bad in Andrew, then there was no way that his own problems could ever hinder her opinion of him.

But it wasn't like he could do anything now. She made it obviously clear who her decision was and as much as Peter was use to getting what he wanted, her neighbor's message still radiated fear through him.

It was through this process that Peter found himself ten minutes later, clutching the same tequila bottle as he slammed one of the security tapes into the VCR in front of him. What harm could it do in checking them? Besides, he promised Grace that he'd do it and seeing as how he wasn't in the mood to do anything but get pissed, a movie was the perfect way to pass the time.

Squinting his eyes as the tape from two nights ago began running, Peter took a large swig from the bottle and grinned. The tape had a perfect view of his companion that night, a stripper with a diva attitude named Amanda, offering her very talented services to him.

For five minutes straight, Peter watched her grinding on him with a wasted smile. Masses of drunk, horny couples around them either ignored the proceedings or stole quick glances. Only when somebody's drink had spilled on one of the "waitresses" did Peter finally peel his eyes away from himself.

_That's...weird._

Andrew was already sitting at the bar, and although the distance couldn't accurately show the expression on his face, Peter noted his jumpiness. A woman to the left of him had brushed his shoulder accidentally and Andrew had reacted as if she'd personally spit in his face.

"Where's that Jerry bloke?" Peter mumbled to himself, setting down the bottle momentarily as he moved his head further into the screen.

However, Andrew remained alone. He'd turn sharply to his right every so often, his lips moving, but the seat to his right was empty.

Peering in closer, Peter felt the oxygen in his lungs stop.

_That's impossible._

Fumbling with the VCR, Peter quickly rewound the tape just a few seconds before, just to make sure that it wasn't the alcohol making things up.

The very same problematic thing appeared on screen.

He watched the rest of the tape in silent awe and a pinch of fear. Not entirely sure what he'd just witnessed, Peter settled for soberly viewing Andrew accept drinks one after another, slugging them down before asking for more.

When the tape ended and black filled the screen, Peter stared at his reflection in the television.

_Ring! Ring!_

Ignoring the telephone, Peter laid back on the shaggy carpet, staring up at the ceiling.

_Ring! Ring!_

"For God's sake Ginger, will you answer the fucking phone?"

Hearing nothing, Peter propped himself up with a scowl on his face. Whoever it was, was about to get their self esteem torn to shreds.

"Listen asshole, I don't know what you're thinking calling me at midnight, but if you don't bugger off, I'll have the police smuggle your children so far south into Mexico that they'll have a new bleedin' family by the time you see them again!"

"Peter Vincent?"

Closing his eyes at the voice, Peter just barely suppressed a growl.

"How'd you get this number, nutter boy?"

On the other end, Charley glanced out the window toward Jerry's house every few seconds, attempting not to panic.

"Look, you've got to help me. Believe me or not about Jerry being a vampire, I don't care any more. But he's dangerous and Grace is in his house, trying to get Andrew out. She won't let me go after her and if I do get hurt, she'll never forgive herself. She never said anything about other people. Please, I need you to help me. Grace is in danger."

Exhaling, Peter swiped at the back of his neck.

Pressing the receiver closer to his ear, Charley felt his breath slow as he listened for any answer.

"I believe you. Twenty minutes, I'll be there."

Blowing out a sigh of relief, Charley had no chance to offer his thanks before the dead tone hit his ear.

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Grace didn't know what she expected to see upon entering Jerry's house. Torture devices on the walls? A threatening fire churning in the fireplace? A coffin? Of course, Jerry wanted to attract as little attention as he could to himself, and to do that would entitle him to have a perfectly normal home.

For some reason, this only made the pit inside of Grace's stomach, heavier. The more normalcy she associated Jerry with, the harder it was to believe that he'd kidnapped her boyfriend. And that in turn made her realize just exactly what she was planning on doing. Staking him.

Could she actually kill another person? Then again, remembering what Charley had said seemed to verify that eventually, the stake in her bag might end up being her best friend.

The harsh padding of feet scurrying across the wooden floor made Grace press herself up to the living room wall, attempting to peer into the darkness. She could probably only see six feet ahead of her, tops.

"Hello?" she naively called then mentally slapped herself.

_Of course the serial killer is going to say hello to me back, informing me of his whereabouts._

Hearing nothing, Grace stepped forward and suddenly felt oxygen leave her lungs as she was slammed with a sickening crack, into the wall behind her.

Feeling a cold hand wrap around her throat, Grace noted her feet leaving the floor as her head crashed violently into the wood behind her.

"I don't even know why," Beverly chided, her eyes searing through Grace with rage, "he finds you so interesting. Maybe if I-."

Pausing, Grace gritted her teeth as Beverly's index finger sliced a deep cut right above her collar bone.

Sniffing it, the woman restricted further air and bent in.

"I'm going to enjoy this," she commented, baring her teeth.

_C'mon Grace, you did not walk into a vampire's house just to get killed._

With this empowering thought, Grace swung her leg forward and connected squarely with Beverly's stomach just as she'd dipped her tongue into the wound.

Although the pain was only temporary, it still caused Beverly to release her grip.

Landing with a thud, Grace crawled across the floor hurriedly as one hand fumbled inside the bag still attached to her.

Before she had a chance to wrap her fist around a crucifix, Beverly's form stilled. As if a puppeteer pulled on her strings, forcing her to pause with arms outstretched.

And then to Grace's horror, a wooden stake appeared through Beverly's chest. Glancing down sadly, Beverly dissolved into a black, ashen pile of dust.

Standing above her was Jerry, holding the stake in his hand.

"Why?" was the only question to leave Grace's lips.

Throwing the wooden steak over a kitchen table, Jerry simply placed his index finger over his lips before gesturing Grace with a head tilt.

In a few seconds, he disappeared into the dark.

Against her better judgment, Grace lifted herself off the floor, threw a glance down at Beverly's remains before following the monster into his domain.

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Upon entering Jerry's basement, Grace's eyes adjusted to the candles lit. They smelled like ancient dust and dead lavender. As if Jerry had had them for centuries.

_Probably has._

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Grace continued down the hallway until she came to a sturdy brown door.

Hesitation shook her down to her bones, unsure as to what she'd find inside, a part of her almost didn't want to know. But Grace reminded herself that she came here for one reason, and one reason only. And it was this thought which made her strong enough to open the door.

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"Andrew?" Grace questioned quietly, standing at entrance of the opened door.

About twenty feet ahead of her, a figure was tied to a post in a mocking crucified state. Their head remained lowered, but even from far away, Grace's eyes found the deep red gashes spread randomly across its naked torso. Both arms were tied to the post in opposite ends, fresh blood dribbling over the crusted, dried blood of days before.

Again, she called out his name, stepping forward cautiously. The further into the basement Grace ventured, the more panicked she grew.

It wasn't until ten feet away did Grace recognize the curly blonde locks barely distinguishable from all the scarlet matted in his hair.

"Andrew!" Grace screamed, charging forward.

She was beneath him in seconds, her shaky hands gripping his face, searching for any sign of life.

"C'mon Andrew, wake up!"

No response prompted Grace to throw her bag on to the floor and plunge her hand inside. Feeling a silver knife, she grabbed it and began cutting down the rope which held Andrew's limp form.

"He's dead," a voice came from behind her.

Grace payed no mind, clawing at the rope and slashing through it with determined precision.

Her actions were rushed and with tears intermixing with blood that managed to drip onto her face from Andrew's curls, Grace had no chance to properly put herself together. All she registered was that the man she'd spent three years with, the man she first made love to, the one that took her out of her comfort zone, the man that loved her so much, was bizarrely strung in front of her and maybe, just maybe, by cutting him down, life would be breathed back into his cracked lips. That by not giving up now, as she'd never done so before, would fix what was already broken.

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Jerry watched Grace cut down Andrew's form in morbid fascination. It had been a truly long time since he'd had to attempt to understand the actions of humans, so many of them being the same in the end. Fear, greed, lust, need. They were perfect vampires already.

But watching Grace, put him on edge. There was no denying that he didn't understand her, initially at least. So much strength stored inside her mind, yet she allowed a pathetic being to mark her with ugly bruises.

It was such a strange procedure to watch that he'd had to do it for longer periods of time, following Grace or watching her as she paced inside her home. He'd studied her movements, her actions, her way of living only to discover the one thing that was so familiar he'd over looked it.

She was alone. Just like him.

And feeling the click snap in his mind as he had watched with a tight jaw and clenched fists while she had made love to the disgusting creature, only fueled him to do something. Because what Grace was, was unique.

It was strange now to think that little actions such as lifting a peach or a quirky phrase could fuel fascination. Jerry had always thought himself a creature of immense darkness, impartial to mercy or interest. Blood was ultimately what he craved, only second to turning others into his ways. And even those people weren't really all that interesting.

But it wasn't until he'd met again the coward, Peter, and watched as he threw himself on her, that Jerry realized what he had to do. What he'd been wanting to do ever since he'd met Grace.

Deep, grumbling, possessiveness had overtaken him unlike any he'd ever felt before and upon deciphering feelings Jerry was unused to having, only set one firm belief into his mind. Grace was his.

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"He didn't deserve you," was the first thing Jerry proclaimed after Grace's tears had dried up.

Pretending not to have heard, Grace only clutched Andrew's body tighter to her, her blood stained fingers running absently through his grimy hair.

Acknowledging that she wasn't going to say anything, Jerry grinned.

"You should have heard the way he screamed, promising me anything just as long as I wouldn't hurt him. And that was only after I tied him up."

Ignoring the clawing anger ascending rapidly in her throat, Grace gritted her teeth, her hand running slightly more aggressively through the thick locks.

"Not that it surprises me, of course. A man so weak that he took to beating the only person that loved him. What a shame I didn't kill him sooner."

Feeling her patience snap, Grace ran her hand over Andrew's cheek one more time before placing him down on the floor and standing up.

"Ah, there she is."

Meeting Jerry's predatory brown eyes, Grace observed his circling. Like he was warring off someone, or perhaps getting ready to pounce.

Breathing in slowly, Grace briefly noted her bag discarded a few feet behind her. Her entire body felt numb, like she'd just gotten slammed into by a 20,000 ton truck. The raw pain supposed to have been felt, simply didn't register in her body. Grace felt utterly vacant.

"You killed my boyfriend," she stated firmly, as if trying to understand a fact.

"Oh yes," Jerry answered with a smile. "But it truly is no waste. Not when you hear what I'm about to offer you, the chance fo-."

"Immortality? A life of lust and blood? Feeling alive as a creature of the undead?" Grace loudly spat, short flames of anger brimming at the surface of her words. "Oh please, that is such bullshit. If there is one thing I hated in the vampire movies, it was the vampire trying to make it sound like being undead was an everlasting vow of ecstasy."

"It could be."

"I'd rather die," she deadpanned.

"By the end of this night, Grace," Jerry answered, a knowing smile displaying widely over his lips, "you will be one of those creatures that you so often watched as a child."

At this, Grace laughed out loud, all of her pain and insecurities bleeding out of the vibration.

"Man, I wasn't kidding when I said you weren't nearly as smart as I thought you were."

Scrunching his eyebrows in confusion, Jerry tilted his head, observing her.

"Your life will have meaning with me," he answered, his eyes burning into her emerald green.

"Did you ever stop to think that it had meaning already?"

"Yes, I'd quite forgotten that you have a knack for getting violently abused during the night. How sorry I am for not intruding."

"That is none of your business."

Switching his gaze toward Andrew, Jerry responded, "I do believe I've made it my business."

Shaking her head, Grace felt tears build up in her eyes. However, she swung them back. If there was one thing she wanted to be when confronting death, it was to be strong.

"I'm guessing you've been watching me?"

Nodding his head, Jerry noted, "Dress in black more often."

Against her own will, Grace felt a blush scurry up her cheeks.

_Out of all the nights he had to watch me, he chose that one? _

"And do you know what Andrew meant to me?"

"Nothing that can't be erased," was his empty reply.

"See, that is one thing I've always pitied about a vampire," Grace acknowledged, feeling enough strength inside her to move toward Jerry, "it's your underestimation. You think you know humans so well, know how to play upon their hopes and fears. I think you've forgotten what it is like to be human. What we do when someone we love, is teared out of our lives. How we react. What we're willing to sacrifice. Being human must seem like such a weak concept to you. But, I think it's a vampire who's the weak one in the end, especially when they're blind to something so obvious."

At this, Grace lifted up her shirt, pulled out the gun and turned off the safety.

Hearing Jerry's immediate laughter ringing in her ears, Grace pondered on what she was about to do. Was this for revenge? No. As much as she wanted to, that vengeful instinct felt by Rambo or any Liam Neeson movie she'd seen, didn't register with her.

What was this really then?

Glancing swiftly at Andrew's body, Grace lowered her head in sympathy.

_I'm so sorry I let him get to you, Andy. But be sure to know, I'm not going to let him win again._

"I've got to admit, I thought that speech was going somewhere," Jerry grinned, wiping away the warmness in his cheeks.

"Oh, it is," Grace remarked, turning the gun over in her hand. "This whole shebang with kidnapping my boyfriend was just to make sure that you had me without any other option before you turned me, yes?"

"Absolutely," Jerry agreed, "and it worked splendidly."

Lacking real amusement, Grace smiled as she lifted the gun and pointed it at Jerry.

"You do know," he laughed, quirking his brows, "that those bullets will do nothing to me. Merely a minor set back."

Feeling her heart beat increase, Grace studied Jerry's confident form, attempting to shield the growing malice settling itself into her heart. She never wanted to be so full of spite and anger at 20 years old. It'd be so unsettling to know that her life would be unraveled just by one man...or scratch that, vampire, who was more assured than anything of what her actions were going to be.

"The most underestimated human emotion is pain," she said. "No one really knows all the things it makes you capable of doing."

Relishing in the confused frown that marred Jerry's lips, Grace sadly smiled.

"I wasn't kidding when I said that I'd rather die and for that reason," she remarked, pulling the gun back and placing it with finality, against her cranium, "these bullets aren't for you."

Hearing a rapid inhale of breath coming from the vampire across her, Grace answered, "They're for me."

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><p><strong>And there we go. Will she or won't she? Will the pain she feels at Andrew's demise (her first love despite everything he'd done to her), overwhelm her to the point of taking her own life? Who knows...well, I do...but you don't so keep pondering and leave a review because they help very, very, very much ;).<strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**There's this odd saying that goes : reviews make the world go round. Well, it's been proven and hey, it helps me update so thank you guys very much for dropping one by. I value each one. Now I wasn't too sure about this idea at first, but now I'm dead set on it because I've got an idea for another story that I'd like to start and well...you'll find out. Anywho, enjoy.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 9<strong>

"You wouldn't," he began, his voice wavering at the determination in her eyes.

"There you go again, thinking that you know what I'm going to do," Grace returned, her grip on the gun becoming more steady. "You killed a man that I loved. What is after that? Eternity spent with his murderer?"

"You're not thinking clearly."

"I'm thinking more clearly that I ever have before in your presence."

Sensing the instinctive curl that Grace's finger had over the trigger, unnerved Jerry more than he wanted to admit.

Hell, it was a lot deeper than what he wanted to believe it was, but his mind was in too much of a frenzy that unease was the only thing he could register.

He hated to admit it, but it would be most unsettling to have her gone. Especially since he'd pursued her with such fervor and had established to a certain degree, some plans of the afterlife with her. Were he to even delve further inside, so far down that he'd think that part of him was ripped away during his transformation into a vampire, Jerry would understand that he had involved more of his self into her than he ever had done to anyone.

In some strange way, he understood the urgency of her actions. To kill oneself when their other half leaves wasn't anything new to him. He'd seen it countless of times through his eyes as the world changed.

But damn it, he didn't understand why him. Why she was so dedicated to a man who wasn't really a man at all. Just a cheap, disgusting, pathetic speck of dust. Microscopic in comparison to what Grace was capable of.

Then again, Grace was an enigma that countered his efforts at every turn. All because she didn't understand that being alive was a hindrance. A mere stepping stone to everything she could become.

"Don't pull that trigger," he commanded slowly, holding out a hand.

"You would really care if I died?" she sarcastically asked.

Holding back her shock, Grace watched indecision strike Jerry's features, his lips frowning at some thought running through his mind.

Finally, he said so softly that Grace didn't think he'd spoken, "Yes."

The gun in her hand shook briefly as she attempted to pull herself together.

"You're lying."

It nearly came out a question rather than a statement.

"I assure you that I didn't go to all of this trouble just to watch you kill yourself," he replied with harsh sarcasm.

Opening her mouth, Grace stood eerily still, pondering on the new developments. Initially, she had planned on pulling the trigger. It was a strange instinct and one she was unused to having. Grace loved life more than she could accurately explain, but the alternative was worse than death. So much worse. Immortality, while it sounded romantic in the novels, was so far above her. The human experience ended with death, just as it began with life. If she were to fall out of the laws which held her to what it meant to be a human, what would she end up being? An animal? A soulless demon?

For that reason, a vampire afterlife held little appeal to her.

A new instinct set in as soon as she'd caught the nervousness circulating Jerry's features however. While she didn't quite understand his interest in her, it didn't mean that her brain should shut down just because all seemed lost. Maybe, just maybe, she could still get out of this alive.

Holding the trigger a fraction tighter only elicited a sharper glare from Jerry.

"Leave this town," Grace stated firmly.

Scratching at his arm, Jerry studied Grace carefully.

"I very much prefer it."

"Then watch me die," she responded, closing her eyes.

"Alright," he quickly agreed, his brown eyes trailing over her with vivid preciseness.

Peeking through one lid, Grace observed the vampire.

"Don't ever hurt anyone I love. Not Charley, not Jane, and no one in this town," Grace demanded, the gun lowering slightly but still within range of her head.

Understanding the negotiation at hand, Jerry stayed silent until Grace moved the gun back up to her head.

"Agreed."

Physically withholding her sigh of relief, Grace met Jerry's unreadable eyes with no fear. If she were to show any, her charade would be done and he would turn her without hesitation.

"I'm going to walk out of this house," Grace began, finally taking her first steps toward the nearest door in the basement, "and you're going to watch me go."

This time, Jerry didn't reply. His body language indicated that he understood her command, but his eyes spoke a completely different story.

"I'm going," Grace spoke again, her voice much steadier as she lowered the gun again.

Jerry simply stood in place, scanning her body up and down. He never said anything, just observed with eyes that had been getting darker the further away she got.

As the cool door knob met Grace's shaking hand, she took the gun away from her head for a second to open the door.

Despite her agreement not to hesitate, she couldn't help but feel like this whole process was too easy. At any moment, she expected Jerry to spring into action, throwing her across the room or sinking his venomous fangs into her neck.

When her hesitation was left without action, Grace walked through the doorway and into the hall.

As she attempted to keep her walking confident, her heart was beating frantically inside her. Grace tried calming it down a few times, but Jerry's inaudible silence made her so anxious that she was surprised she hadn't hyperventilated or peed her pants. Or both at the same time.

_Keep it calm. One step at a time. I've got this._

GSCGSCGSCGSC

When Jerry's front door appeared before Grace's eyes, she finally found the need to lower the gun to her hip. Having held it up for so long, made her arm feel like it weighed a ton.

"Thank the spirits of Swaziland," Grace let out, a nervous laugh bubbling through her.

The house was deathly silent and only moments ago, Grace had passed the remaining pile of Beverly's ashes. She should have asked why Jerry had killed her.

_I just got away from the creep. All questions can be withheld for now._

Stepping forward, Grace grabbed the door knob and swung it open.

A cool breeze slapped her in the face, causing her auburn locks to fling like razors, over her skin. Every light on the street was out, unaware parents and children slumbering. Not fully aware, and never going to be that there was once a murderous vampire that lived on their peaceful street.

Sighing, she stepped forward, ready to put it all behind her.

"Did you really think I'd just watch you leave?"

The voice greeted the air so fast that by the time Grace had acknowledged it, it was too late to run out of the house. A hand sprung around her waist, gripping on to it in a firm-like vice before pulling back.

Slamming rudely into the wall behind her, the gun slipped out of Grace's hand. Blowing out a gasping breath as oxygen left her lungs, she felt something equivalent to the brutal chill of metal, cover her body as her arms were flung above her.

Jerry kept Grace pinned to the wall with his hips, while his hands slid through her fingers up on the wall, pressing down with no mercy. His eyes were nearly coal black, his breath coming out in pants as his breath flew with harsh intensity, into her face.

"Let go," Grace instinctively uttered, attempting to throw his hips off her.

All it did however was force Jerry to expel a low growl.

"Keep doing that and I can't guarantee that you'll have clothes on your body by the end of the night," was his dark reply, flinging his eyes open which were trying to regress back to a coffee brown.

"You promised-."

"I agreed to leave this town and not hurt your friends, correct. You never said anything about yourself, however."

Disgusted at the mix of arousal and despair that pounded through her veins, Grace only shrank back as his head got nearer to hers.

She held her breath as his face disappeared beside her.

"Your scent could drive a fulfilled man to thirst," he ground out, running the tip of his tongue over Grace's pulse.

"Stop."

It came out authoritative and in control, two things that Grace felt slip away from her as soon as his tongue made contact with her skin. There literally was a near electric current that passed between them, only pushed deeper into her veins as his tongue explored her neck.

"How did I restrain myself for so long?" he questioned, pushing his hips even further into her, causing Grace to fall fully back into the wall behind her.

Gasping, she closed her eyes as one of Jerry's hands left from above.

"I am going to bite into you as if you were a fresh, ripe peach."

Renewing her efforts at struggle, Grace threw her hips into Jerry's again, this time earning a rumble from deep inside his chest.

"Mine," he proclaimed with finality, a hand hovering just over Grace's heart.

_This is not happening, damn it! Not with the guy who killed Andrew. C'mon, think. I am not going to be turned into a vampire after all of this. With all the movies I watched on this stuff, I should be an expert. Think Grace, think._

However, the only thing to enter her mind was gym class at her old high school.

_Holy mother of magenta, out of all the meaningless things to think of right before I'm going to die._

Jerry's legs spread, his form alone now keeping her against the wall. He studied the beauty in front of him deeply, knowing that if he had a conscious heart, it'd be beating uncontrollably.

"You will never leave me for as long as you live," Jerry stated, his haunting brown eyes penetrating Grace's innocent green ones.

Then, he leaned in and met her lips with his.

Grace wanted to push his tongue out, but with centuries of seduction under his belt, Jerry maneuvered precisely, licking at anything he could touch as his lips enveloped her; a clear sign of overwhelming possession.

And when she thought she had him figured out, he suddenly turned gentle on her, easing up on the aggression as he wrapped his tongue around hers in sensual persuasion.

The only reflex manageable and something that Grace knew was Jerry's intention, was to either fight his tongue off or give in and let him take control. Neither were an option for her.

_Okay, why did I think of gym class? There's got to be a reason. I don't just-good god did he just nip there? No, I don't think of random things in life threatening situations. Why the hell did I think of gym class?_

Snapping her eyes open, Grace mentally rejoiced.

_Of course!_

Ripping her hands out of Jerry's grip above her, she surprised him by throwing them around his frame, pushing herself invitingly into his body. The only noise which elevated up his throat was a grumble so deep that it shook Grace's body.

Pulling back, Jerry thew both hands on to each side of Grace's face as he stared at her intensely.

"Jerry," Grace breathlessly sighed, straining her legs back. "Oh, Jerry. I'm so sorry that I didn't see before. See what was in front of me all along."

Completely entranced, Jerry only smiled, his fangs showing seductively in the semi lit room.

"Tell me," he commanded.

Tracing her fingers lightly over Jerry's cheek, Grace felt him pull her in with all his might, if not with his body then with his mentality.

Vampires were seductive, charismatic, and mysterious. They were what every girl with romantic misgivings, strove to meet on a cool evening at a local park. Their immortality was the prize of so many who didn't wish to live longer, but to have the power to cheat death. To never face it.

Jerry was a vampire and he lusted and wanted and demanded and believed he could have it because immortality was above a human's life. And maybe in some ways it was, but Grace knew that she'd lived more in 20 years than she ever would in 200.

Licking her lips, Grace met Jerry's dark irises with her own and seductively mumbled, "Don't mark what you'll never own."

With that, her knee swung forward and connected as brutally as it could, with Jerry's crotch.

The impact had the man on his knees in seconds, her knee slamming directly into a part of his groin where not even an undead being could protect.

Kicking Jerry's form backward, Grace scattered away, her eyes refusing to leave the vampire on the floor.

"10th grade, gym class. Kyle De-Jong taught us all how to fend of an attacker. Be swift, be nimble, kick ass. This," Grace gestured, her feet padding back with each word, "is me kicking ass."

Flinging his head up, Jerry's eyes were a demonic black, seething as his fangs were pointed out in unabashed fury.

Crouching, Grace swiftly clawed at the gun and let out a relieved breath as she pointed it out in front of her.

"This," Grace indicated, her finger lingering over the trigger, "is for Andrew."

Pulling once, she watched the bullet enter Jerry's shoulder, causing him to swing back. Pulling again, the second bullet slipped right into his ribs, a cracking sound violating the atmosphere as the bullet crumbled any ribs in its way.

Without further hesitation, Grace sprinted out of the door.

_If he catches me, I'm dead. _

And she knew there was nothing but truth in that. No more sexual touches and lasting stares. Jerry would bite into her like a medium rare steak.

Rushing out into the night, Grace glanced behind her once and sped up as she caught Jerry's form rise up off the ground.

Turning back, she lost all the air in her lungs as she crashed full force into a figure, causing the figure to fling back with her on top.

Both landed with an unceremonious oof.

"Holy Christmas," Grace moaned, blinking once as her eyes opened.

"And a Merry bleedin' Christmas to you to, Grace."

Feeling a smile encase her lips, Grace nearly cried with relief.

"Peter, what are you doing here?"

Peter's brown eyes met hers, then glanced behind her quickly.

"Oh shit."

Furrowing her brows, Grace felt Peter rapidly push her off and jump to his feet, all in two seconds flat.

"Stay away, vampire," Peter demanded, petting inside his trench coat.

Jerry stood only twenty feet away, watching him in the same horrifying detachment that he'd watch his victims with.

His eyes then switched over to Grace's who watched him wearily, unsure if Peter could do anything to protect them.

"I said, back the fuck away!"

Narrowing his eyes, Jerry took in Peter's skinny form and nearly recoiled.

In his hand, Peter held a large silver cross. There was nothing ordinary about it by far. Having been handed down from generation to generation, it was thought to have been made by a blacksmith during the Middle Ages, inside a very sacred church. Holy water mixed in with silver, made the cross deadlier than any piece of vampire equipment.

"Grace," Peter called out of the corner of his mouth, "are you okay?"

"Yeah," she answered, pushing herself up.

"Do you really think-."

"What part of close your fucking lips, don't you vampires understand?" Peter calmly relayed, the grip on the cross becoming firmer as he stepped forward.

Noticeably retreating a few steps, Jerry glared at the cross in hate.

"You're here," Grace noted thankfully once she'd gotten close to him.

"Yeah. Charley called, said you were in trouble. Came as soon as I heard."

Arching a brow, she took him in with mild surprise.

"Where's Andrew?" he asked.

When Grace didn't reply, Peter nodded his head as a silent confirmation.

"Sorry."

"Nothing we could have done about it."

"Right, well this bastard is about to be laid to-."

"Do you really think you can keep me away from her?" Jerry growled out, his stare locked on to Grace.

"Absolutely, fang boy. I've got a whole bunch more of these crosses," Peter retorted.

"Grace, I want you to hear this, personally."

Twisting her lips into a frown, Grace took a few steps forward but was prevented from going any further by Peter's arm.

"Peter, it's alright," she promised.

Nodding his head, Peter moved, his body right behind Grace but an arm extended in front with the cross wrapped tightly in his fist.

"I have no business left with you."

At this, Jerry laughed sardonically, his hands running through his hair in unhinged aggravation.

"If you think," he began, his eyes resting on hers, "that I wanted you before, it's nothing in comparison to how badly I want you now. I'll leave this town, leave your friends alone, but know this, Grace. We will meet again, and next time, you'll be chained cozily to my bed, never leaving my sight. I may have underestimated you greatly, but you've done the same to me. You may know vampires, Grace, but you still lack knowledge of men. This interest I've developed for you, is so much greater than I could have ever guessed it'd be. So much darker than even your brightest light could attempt to discover. So run along, little Grace. Enjoy your freedom and your body. One day, both will be mine, and no pathetic little coward can stand in the way of that."

All the blood in Grace's veins descended into frigid ice, causing her body to freeze. Although he hadn't physically marked her, this verbal stake of claim already seemed to have done what he couldn't.

"You'll never lay a hand on her for as long as I live," Peter spoke from behind her.

Grace was somewhat amazed that his voice was able to stay as strong as it did, considering what had just been said.

"You know I'll get to her, Peter, just like I got to your parents. And Grace knows that I'll get to her. This isn't something she'll be able to prevent. My mate, my rules."

Inhaling sharply, Grace shook somewhat as she felt one arm wrap comfortingly around her.

"Haven't ya heard, _Jerry, _no one plays by the fuckin' rules anymore. I'll protect her or die trying."

Smirking, Jerry studied the two, tilting his head.

"See you around, Grace."

And with that final chilling statement, he retreated back into the house.

"We showed him, didn't we?" Peter laughed.

Nodding her head numbly, Grace felt her feet lead her away from Jerry's house. It didn't matter how far, it didn't matter how long, just away from the house.

"Grace?"

She kept on walking, crossing her arms as her eyes trailed the road beneath her.

"Grace!"

In seconds, Peter had ran up to her fleeing form, placing a heavy hand on her shoulder.

"Oi, you alright?"

Turning around, Grace ran a hand along her neck, tears threatening to break from her glassy eyes.

"I'm scared," she all but whispered out.

This time there was no falsity behind the statement. All Grace felt was deep, unrelenting fear.

"That's why I'm here. I'm not going to let him get to you. We can stay in this town. Didn't he say he was going to leave?"

"Do you really think he'll stay away after saying something like that?" Grace asked.

Peter shook his head no before the thought had time to register. Even he had witnessed the dark promise in his words.

"Alright," he agreed, facing her, "he's got us there. We will probably see him again. But let me ask you this. Did he think that he was going to turn you?"

For fear of choking, Grace simply nodded her head.

"Right. And did he?"

"No."

"Okay. That was you that did that, Grace. You found the power within yourself to battle what's probably one of the most vicious kind of vampires in existence. And I'm going to be here along with you, no more running, I swear. The bastard may have gotten my parents and played upon my fear, but he's not doing it again. Believe me when I say, I will protect you."

"Why?" Grace questioned suddenly, backing up and throwing an indignant hand in the air. "After everything you heard, why are you still going to help me? What the hell is in it for you? Why?"

And at this, Grace couldn't hold back the tears and longer. A loose stream flowed down her cheeks, her throat tightening as the events of the day fully made their selves known.

"I want to help you, Grace. Why wouldn't I want to bloody help the woman I-. Just believe me, alright? I'll be here."

"Andrew," she choked out, salt burning in her eyes, "it was all my fault. He stayed with me and now he's gone. Peter, you've got to go while you have the chance."

Peter waited a few seconds before closing the distance between them. Enwrapping her in his arms, he lightly placed one hand on each side of her face. Right now, he knew she wasn't ready to know the real reason that he'd protect her until he died. She'd just lost someone dear to her heart and that would take a long time to heal.

So, instead, he opted for the second truth.

"Because I ruddin' care about you."

With that, he placed a kiss on her forehead and hugged her sobbing form as tears began to stain his white shirt.

The comfort only made more tears fly out of her eyes. Grace didn't know she'd been holding back so much until now. How much loneliness and pain she'd felt, and not just in the aftermath of Andrew's death. For the first time in a year, Grace fully felt the realistic slap in the face that her relationship with Andrew wasn't going to last. Something had taken him away from her even before Jerry had. Something that he'd gripped on to everynight, seeking more comfort in it then in his relationship.

"Promise you won't leave?" she quietly mumbled into Peter's shoulder.

And it was with that question that Peter remembered that she was only 20 years old.

_Doesn't kiss like a bleedin' 20 year old._

More to the point, she was still partially a kid. Most of the time, he'd forgotten that. Grace had acted so mature for her age, so ready to conquer life. There was nothing that prepares a person for having their loved one murdered and the murderer promising to come back.

"If I ever leave, it'll be by force. Vampires will never harm you," he promised, relishing in the soft warm in his arms.

"Thank you."

GSCGSCGSCGSC

"So since you've got the house cleaned out, I'm guessing you're leaving Nevada for good?" Jane questioned on an early Monday morning, indulging in a homemade cup of coffee.

Smiling, Grace studied the front yard of the Brewster household.

"I need a change of scenery."

"Don't we all. First it was Jerry leaving, now it's you...sorry Grace. I know how much Andrew meant to you."

By now, word had reached of Andrew's body being discovered inside of Jerry's house. The man in question, was nowhere to be seen as the neighborhood exploded in rumors. None of them were true however, and most likely never would be. Still, a murder was more of a Las Vegas feature, not a small town like Clark County.

"Can't believe I wanted you to date him," Jane sputtered in distaste, sipping at her coffee.

Shaking her head, Grace felt the smile disappear from her lips.

"You would probably be dead," she stated.

"You have no idea," Grace answered.

Minutes ticked by and by the time twelve in the afternoon had struck, Grace was hugging Jane goodbye.

"Thank you so much for everything you've done for me," Grace stated, hearing a thunderous car approaching behind her.

"Hey, I know this last year was rough on you, but don't ever forget that you're always welcome here. You're a wonderful person, Grace, and you deserve somebody who sees that in you. I love you, alright?"

Nodding, Grace hugged on to Jane's form tighter, knowing that as soon as she left Clark County, nothing could be guaranteed. She might not ever see Jane again and this thought only made her clutch on to her tighter.

"From that hug, I'm guessing it's going to be an official goodbye."

"Yes," Grace agreed, hearing a loud honk blast the quiet street.

"Grace!"

Turning around, Grace grinned at the figure running toward her.

"Charley," Jane reprimanded, "you're supposed to be in school."

"I've got to say goodbye to Grace," Charley replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Alright," she answered.

"Alone," he input.

Grace met Jane's roll of the eyes as she retreated into the house.

"Peter told me about what happened inside the house."

Sighing, Grace gave a mock angered look toward the car resting on the road.

"Remind me to kick him square in his British ass."

"Thank you," Charley responded, throwing himself into her arms.

"For what?" she questioned, hugging him.

"For keeping my mom and I safe."

"Well...thank you for calling Peter. I probably would have been changed right on Jerry's lawn if Peter wouldn't have been there to fend him off with his cross."

"He'd do anything for you," Charley added knowingly, waving at the man inside the waiting car.

Ignoring the mischievous light that had entered Charley's eyes, Grace simply brushed at his hair.

"Goodbye, and stay safe."

"Can I contact you guys in any way?" Charley asked as Grace began walking toward the car.

"Peter doesn't want me telling you this, but you've been with us all along so I think you should know. There's a special number," Grace stated, pulling out the already numbered slip of paper, "that you call if there's any emergencies. Supernatural, vampire emergencies. Otherwise, we can't ever come in contact with you. It's far too dangerous with Jerry out there and I don't want our location to be tracked in any way."

"Absolutely. I'll only call for emergencies," Charley repeated.

"You're a fantastic guy, Charley. I love you."

Charley grinned, relaying, "Keep that romantic stuff for the guy behind you."

Just as he'd said that, another beep greeted the muggy air.

"Impatient, that one is. See you some day, I hope," Grace commented.

"You too. Be safe."

"Always."

"Bye."

"Goodbye, Charley."

GSCGSCGSCGSC

"So where are we off to, Peter Vincent?"

"Beyond the beyond. Further than any man has gone before. Around the world, and then some. Some place that no one ever goes to!"

Setting her seat back, Grace propped her feet up on the dashboard, enjoying the cool breeze blowing lightly into her face from the half cracked open window.

"What, like one of your acts?"

"As side splitting as that was, I don't believe that is the answer."

"Is it somewhere I've been before?"

"Maybe."

Studying the man beside her with a grin behind her hand, Grace's eyes shown as Peter kept glancing sideways at her.

"Hmm...you're looking really excited. Is it Disneyworld?"

"Hah, no fucking thanks. They kicked me out of the bloody park, having to do with some idiotic law about public intoxication while on children rides. How was I suppose to know that you ride inside the Minnie Mouse seat, and not on Minnie Mouse herself?"

Choking back a laugh, Grace's grin developed into a full blown smile.

"Alright, I'll ask about that one later. I give up. Where are we going?"

"Well...I'll give you a hint. You were born there."

Widening her eyes, Grace stared at Peter in awe.

"What? How?"

"Right before I left, I had Alan make a few calls. As fat as the bastard is, he really is a good manager. Anyway, he'd originally wanted to expand my act to different cities, gain more profit and all that jazz. One of the cities would have been New York and before I knew it, he was handing me all the cash he'd saved up for me when he knew I'd be too drunk or stupid to accurately handle it myself. Might have to stay in a crummy hotel, but whatever keeps us out of the public eye, right?"

"Yeah," Grace answered, her eyes straying toward the road.

"What's on your mind?"

Shaking it off, she waved her hand in dismissal.

"Oi, c'mon now Grace. Did you know that I've got a particular talent of tickling a person while driving?"

"What are we going to do there?"

"Whatever you want. Can't stay there too long, but maybe you can show me where you played at when you were young or what schools you got ready for 18 years of your life. I've even got a mate there who's good at hacking. We can look up pictures of the blokes you went to school with, see if they're in prison or married to a morbidly obese Wal Mart greeter, not that I have anything against them of course."

"Wow."

"What?" he questioned, sneaking a glance at her.

"This is kind of...domestic for you, isn't it?"

"Yeah...I suppose it is. But I think I need it."

"That's a first," Grace noted with a smirk.

"Might be the last if you keep it up."

A few minutes passed by before Grace finally was able to reveal what was really on her mind.

"Can I visit my parents?"

"Grace, you can do whatever you want. Just remember that you left Nevada to protect the people you loved. If you drag that same heartache to the inside of your home, this next time, you might not be so lucky."

Despite the sulleness of Peter's answer, Grace instinctively knew he was right. By adding her family into the mix, would only make things complicated. And no matter how strong the urge was to see them, to barge back into her childhood home and lay rest in the room she'd spent hours decorating, it wasn't worth it if her parents lives were at stake.

"Guess I'll skip the family pow wow."

"Sorry."

"No, you're right. I've got to think clearly about this. We should spend maybe a day or two in New York, no more than that. I've got enough money to last up to a year of traveling."

At this, Peter chuckled.

"What?"

"Just that...I've got enough money for us to travel a hundred years and then some. Which only goes to show that my act isn't nearly as bad as you say it is."

"Tips at the local Chip N Dale don't count."

"Oi, I'm going to have a helluva time with you, Buckley," Peter embraced, his eyes focusing on Grace's shining green ones.

"Yeah...well keep your eyes on the road. Wouldn't want to hit any more mooses."

A barking laugh was Grace's reply as the two left Clark County behind them and journeyed into the unknown.

GSCGSCGSCGSC

Jerry sat patiently inside of Grace's old home, grinning as the dark descended upon the town. He had promised that he wouldn't hurt the locals here and he would stay true to his word until there was no other choice in order to get Grace back. However, in the mean time, he was more than willing to chase down his prey.

His hand reached out behind him and quickly felt the soft object he'd been looking for. Smiling, Jerry pulled the pillow to his nose and inhaled the faint scent of peaches. A low growl made its way through his body as he recalled the experience of the night before. He'd been so close that he could still remember the taste of her on his tongue. So innocent yet ancient. A combination too rare for him to turn away from.

_Oh I cannot wait to find you, Grace. First, I'll break that scrawny coward's neck, then drain him dry. After that, I'll corner you and when you realize you have nowhere to go, I'll-._

Ring! Ring!

Grumbling in annoyance, Jerry's eyes met the telephone in the dark room.

Ring! Ring!

Ignoring it, he clutched the pillow closer to him.

Ring! Ring!

Soon, the phone ceased ringing and the answering machine picked up.

As the message began, Jerry's ears perked up.

_Hey Grace, it's your mother. I heard this morning the terrible news about Andrew. I am so sorry. I don't know where you are and since you haven't answered any of your father's or my calls, I'm going to assume that you are within friends' company. But when you hear this message, I want you to call back. Your brother has just come back home from his abroad program in Scotland and I know he'll be happy to hear from his little sister. And if you do decide to come back here to Timberfield, just know that we'll welcome you with open arms. Maybe we can even have a proper New York Christmas this year. Ah well, I'm just rambling on. Hope you're holding up and call me back when you get this message. I lov-._

The machine cut off Mrs. Buckley's last words but Jerry jumped up in his spot any way.

If anyone were to walk by Grace and Andrew's old house, they would have heard a dark laugh emitting from the vacant home. One that would have shaken them down to their core and made them question the sanity of whom the laugh came from.

However, everyone was laying comfortably in bed, sleeping away another night, unaware of the vampire inside the home that he could enter whenever he pleased. So blissfully unaware of the determination which entered the man, seemingly sharpening his teeth in its intensity. And entirely unaware of his graceful form that had just as easily slipped out into the night with a brand new destination in mind.

"Oh Grace," Jerry called into the night as a mist settled upon the sleepy town, "you have no idea what darkness lies ahead of you."

**End?**

* * *

><p><strong>This is the last chapter of this story which might be a sudden shock to some of you, but I originally wanted to end it here. Writing a sequel isn't out of the question and is something I was considering do it, but maybe I shouldn't. Who knows.<strong>** Anyway, I really hope you enjoyed the story. Drop me off a review and if you think that maybe a sequel is in order, let me know, especially since I feel like I left a lot of unresolved tension between Jerry and Grace. I do love hearing your opinions. **

**Right now, I'm attempting to work on a fanfic having to do with a movie that really sickened a lot of my friends who watched it. I looked at the fanfics for the movie and it only has 5 stories written which inspires me to write one, even if not many people review at all. I'm referring to the movie, The Human Centipede. The girls' in the film acting was really, really bad at the beginning, the detectives were idiots, and even when the surgeon created the centipede, the movie wasn't really going anywhere. Very low quality, scary concept, but just made me go 'meh'. HOWEVER, I was utterly fascinated with the surgeon, Josef Heiter, played brilliantly by a German actor. There's one part in the movie where he tells the girls that he doesn't like human beings...I lol'd so hard because they still STAYED inside the house and when he offered them water, they TOOK it. If someone told me that they didn't like human beings, I WOULD GET THE HELL OUT OF THE DAMN HOUSE! But, when he said that quote in the movie, it made me think that there's probably a more psychological/analytical side to him which makes him the madman that he is. And that made me think more that he probably represses a lot of things. So of course I'm going to create an OC and have her talk him up and I like my OC's smart so you never know what'll happen. Normally I dismiss movies and I don't write many fanfictions for a good reason, but I can't get over my fascination with the character and that's when I know that I have to write something about it. Anywho, I've rambled on about that...if you haven't seen the movie and you have a very weak stomach, don't watch it. It's not overly graphic, but there is one part about poop and...yeah, I'm not going to get into it. Right, well, that's what I'm working on so thanks for reading and have a good school year! Gah...I sound like a grandmother.**


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